The Bluest Eyes
by Anamnesis Redivivus
Summary: AU, modern day. In this time of corruption and conspiracies, it’s hard to tell who’s evil and who’s not. Now it is their turn to retaliate…and they won’t accept anything lesser than total annihilation.
1. Temporary Apocalypse

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

Full summary: Legolas witnessed Middle-earth change into Earth. He saw reincarnated Men alter society from what it once was. Traveling around the world for thousands of years, he becomes engrossed in a strange devilry that threatens the new world from the shadows of societies. Now he stands alone to wage a covert war against a new kind of evil in the 21st century. Legolas - somewhat hardened by millenniums of war against evil - finds hope within chaos as he journeys throughout America, the secret fortress of evil. War of good vs. evil still continues...and his blue eyes still continue to gleam like the stars in the black sky of the new world.

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Warning: LOTR BOOK EXISTS, BUT ASSUMES THAT THE MOVIES WERE NEVER MADE (although this may have a few movie elements)! Not everything in this story is true to life (i.e.: details of cities, politicians, etc. are altered like comic books and movies) because I'd much rather make up things. It's easier and more fun. Just call me a Tolkienite in that sense - I'm creating a 'new' Earth. Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence. E-mail me if you think this should be R (when the violence comes out, that is).

I don't think this is a MS fic in the sense that the OC (who will be introduced later) is not based on me, she's not perfect, she doesn't have a secret past that connects her with Legolas, or whatever. She's not an elleth either. So...I'd say she's just a normal human that anyone could relate to, provided that you are female also. Guys may be able to relate to male OCs too...or not.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: I need the first few chapters or so to set up the whole story. Long, but think of it this way - I'm shortening up 15,000 plus years into a few chapters. I think it'll be great once it's all set up. Please review so I won't get discouraged and screw up this great idea!

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**It's funny when you look at science magazines, history textbooks, and newspapers nowadays. Yes. It's funny. " Earth was made some billions of years ago and dinosaurs once ruled the Earth," they say. Sure. If that's what you want to believe. I, just one in six billion, beg to differ. Why? Because I know the truth. This planet - Earth, as people now call it - has a history only the 'unknown' know about. I am one of them...**

Fourth and Fifth Ages of Middle-earth, Arda...

After the victory of good against evil, inhabitants of Middle-earth sought to solidify their gains through many ways. Through the Fourth Age and on to the Fifth, mankind achieved many successes. Men raised their general standards of living. They established good relations with all forces of light. Better relations led to merging of the nations. Men began to unite under one banner.

Humanity also sought to ensure their peace by waging war against all evil. The two-Age long campaign managed to utterly wipe evil creatures from the face of Middle-earth. Orcs, Goblins, Trolls, Wargs, and many other dark things were destroyed. It seemed that peace would finally bring about the growth of joy and prosperity for all, but it was not so.

While Men grew in number and took up more land, other races of Middle-earth began to dwindle. Population of Dwarves reduced incredibly from low reproduction rate. Hobbits grew bigger in height, but their people lessened as some began to marry into the race of Men. Others continued to retreat as Men moved westward to find more land to cultivate. Hobbits soon disappeared as a distinctive race. By the middle of the Fifth Age, Dwarves and Hobbits were beings of legend.

More depressing was the fate of the Elves. After the Ring-bearers sailed for Valinor, the other Elves tried to live out their lives in peace. Even after they drove away evil creatures from their lands, something still plagued them. They knew their time ended in Middle-earth, yet they still lived on. After two thousand years passed in the Fourth Age, a calling came to the Elves. The Valar foresaw death for the Elves if they stayed in Middle-earth, so they altered their old decree. They offered the Elves one last chance to enter Valinor, but warned that it should be permanent. Without second thought, the last remaining Elves in Middle-earth sailed for the shore of the Blessed Realm.

During the last half of the Fourth Age to the end of the Fifth Age, Men continued to conquer the land that the other races inherited to them. Cities boomed and population blossomed without bounds. Men saw infinite possibilities ahead of them. Soon the Eldar Days and the days concerning the Ring became things of legend. Younger generations paid no heed to the lessons of those tales, only seeking fortunes through luck.

When it seemed that mankind was bound for a tumble after reaching the pinnacle of their upward ride, fate let loose an earth-shaking tremor. Plates of earth drifted and ground into each other as the great ocean swallowed civilizations. When all land was gone from sight, the blue water spat out earth onto the surface. The large chunk of earth soon drifted into pieces. Soon, six continents became recognizable. Even a mass of snow and ice began to form on the northern pole. Middle-earth was reborn as Earth.

Meanwhile, Aman had been safe during this breath-taking transformation. Since mortals could never find the Blessed Realm, its inhabitants let go of any fears. Now Valinor existed "invisibly" somewhere in a body of water, later named the Atlantic Ocean. They watched on as Ilúvatar let another theme, of the Songs of the Ainur, be known.

After about five thousand years after the reformation of Earth, mankind awakened once more to find the sun, the moon, and the stars. They lived in caves and formed the most rudimentary societies. It seemed that Europe and Africa would have the first great civilizations. The Valar watched on as Men created civilizations solely of their own imaginations. They formed their own language, culture, and religion. None of them resembled those of the Middle-earth days, but there were some similarities. It was apparent that these Men, reincarnations of those killed in the Fifth Age, remembered the most basic knowledge in their collective subconscious.

The Valar and the Elves breathed easy in knowing that they were safe in Aman. However, there was one soul in Valinor who felt uneasy. Something tugged at him as he watched these mortals carve out a new life for themselves. Something told him that he wanted to relive a certain part of the past - the part where he also created a new life. This Earth to Men was like Ithilien to him. They foresaw a great potential with this land that they 'alone' possessed.

The Elf who found this resurrection appealing was Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil, and Prince of Eryn Lasgalen. He had made his own boat to sail with his companion Gimli, son of Glóin, in the early Fourth Age. Legolas did not know then what he was leaving behind. Something about this stage of Earth's history attracted him. He felt great nostalgia gnaw at his heart, mind, and soul as he watched Men create a world of their own.

Legolas wanted to see what these reincarnated Men were capable of. He wanted to witness the rebirth of human civilization. How would it be different? How would it be similar? The Elf was full of wanderlust as he looked on. Although he had a few reasons, they were not strong enough to make him feel this way. Something about this new Earth pulled him like how the moon draws the ocean closer to itself. After a few centuries, the desire became irrepressible.

It took a lot for the Elf to summon enough courage to even approach the Valar with such daring request. Legolas did not even know exactly why he wanted to leave the Blessed Realm, but he did. That was all that mattered. His plea was short, but it conveyed his desire perfectly. After a very short deliberation, the Valar agreed to send him out to the new Earth. Other Elves saw this much too strange. Why would an immortal Firstborn leave the Undying Land to live alone amongst the mortals? They did not feel what he did, but it did not matter. Legolas just wanted to explore the new world. He wanted to make that feeling in his chest satisfied.

After Legolas bid everyone farewell, he was given a small boat to bear him to the world of men. Ulmo provided the favorable wind as Legolas looked back at the Elves along the dock and the shore, watching him. There was no tear, no regret, and no fear. That feeling overwhelmed him to quicken his departure as he looked back.

Ulmo's wind bore him away from Valinor with good speed. Legolas strained his eyes as the distance between them grew. In a matter of a few minutes, the shores were out of sight for the immortal. Left alone, Legolas looked at the meager belongings in his boat. He left behind all unnecessary wealth, only taking what mattered to him the most. There was the brooch of the Fellowship that was given to them by Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. The cloak became too old after ten thousand years, but the brooch survived. He also had his white knives, although he left behind his bows and quiver for his father to cherish. All else were a few articles of clothes, food, and _miruvor_. He would now begin a new phase in his long, long life.

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Please Review!


	2. Around the World

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

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Warning: LOTR BOOK EXISTS, BUT ASSUMES THAT THE MOVIES WERE NEVER MADE (although this may have a few movie elements)! Not everything in this story is true to life (i.e.: details of cities, politicians, etc. are altered like comic books and movies) because I'd much rather make up things. Just call me a Tolkienite in that sense - I'm creating a 'new' Earth. Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence. E-mail me if you think this should be R (when the violence comes out).

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: Thanks to Jennifer Bloom for catching that I put Greenwood instead of Greenleaf in Ch.1. I know it's actually Greenleaf, but I guess I was too much in a hurry to finish and put this up. Thanks! Please review!

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The sight before Legolas amazed him. He had seen enough of the ocean in his travel to Valinor, but this was completely, utterly different. A vast length of glittering blue stretched along the horizon, merging with the morning sun hanging low in the sky. For a few days, there was nothing but salty seawater for company. After about ten days, he began to see sea gulls flying over head. In a matter of days, he arrived at the entrance of the Mediterranean Sea. His small boat went unnoticed.

Ulmo guided Legolas towards Greece, the rising land of great civilizations. When the small boat slid onto a sandy beach, the Sea God left after Legolas thanked him sincerely. It was awe-inspiring to see this new world full of things he half recognized and the other half strange to him. There were new species of plants and animals that he never saw before. Some creatures seemed familiar.

Legolas gathered his things and walked towards no certain direction. He was content with wandering the forest. It did not take long before he found a path leading towards a small village near the shores. When he arrived, strangers showered unusual welcome to him. He was given robes of their own style, food, and lodging. Legolas found this more pleasant. These resurrected men did not seem tainted with fear of evil...yet.

After spending a few weeks in this lovely seaside village, Legolas took up his things and began walking again. The more he walked the richer civilization he encountered. It seemed that there were few evil activities, but they seemed so insignificant in comparison to Morgoth and Sauron. People were very open and welcoming. Both their doors and arms were open to him. Few thought his ears strange, but none made a commotion out of it - which he was very thankful of. Traveling seemed very pleasing.

After a year of traveling throughout Greece and its many city-states, Legolas found something very disturbing. Although there were no evil creatures like Orcs and Goblins, something still plagued the once-kind human race. While some were kind, others took to malevolent ways to achieve what they wished. Legolas had assumed that Ilúvatar would not create atrocious things after seeing what Morgoth and Sauron committed. It did not seem so. Evil now came in a different form.

That new evil was Men. Although they were the only intelligent creatures, they learned evil from themselves. Something told them that treachery was easier than benevolence. Those weaker in heart and mind resorted to stealing, lying, cheating, and killing to do what others did by honest methods. Although they did not have great powers like Morgoth and Sauron, their wickedness seemed more perfidious. They were committing crimes against their _own_ kind.

It disappointed and hurt him to see the balance of good and evil being leveled after being tipped towards the good's advantage. Legolas also realized that he was too naïve to think that evil could be rid forever. It was within everyone. Everyone was capable of committing evil. All it took to push them was a little prodding from thinking how they could achieve greatness through a shortcut. Legolas knew, from instinct and experience, that there is no greatness without suffering. Greatness is merit, not luck.

Only after a year amongst the mortals, Legolas took up fighting again. This time, it was to prevent evil from proliferating uncontrollably. He had great, perhaps immature, hopes that he could help thwart the path evil was presently taking. With his skills and knowledge, Legolas set out to help the decent men fight off evil.

Because of his dedication to defeating evil from the onset, Legolas traveled all over Earth. Most of his activities were centered in Europe. Asia and Africa he found difficult to get involved in because of his appearance. If he made his presence known, who knows what might happen? He did not want to take chances.

Legolas secretly participated in many wars. He knew what may happen if he displayed too much of his skills, so he always kept in mind to remain a mediocre fighter or a 'whisperer.' As a whisperer, Legolas acted as a guard, servant, or friend to 'whisper' advices. By using those two methods, Legolas ensured that he would not leave a record on Men's history. He was not here to make a name for himself and rule over Men.

The Elf traveled far and wide during the coming millenniums. He soon traveled to Rome when it was flourishing. He also went to many other places such as England, France, Germany, Spain, Italy, and much more. It was more than safe to presume that he was somehow involved in every major events of human history. He were there when astronomy began, when the Renaissance began, when calculus was developed, when Shakespeare wrote his plays, when the Triangle Trade reshaped the world economy, when pirates ruled the seas, when America had its Civil War, when Manifest Destiny changed America, and when many other things happened.

Legolas also fought in the major battles to secure the victory of good over evil. Although he is not remembered in those events, that did not change the fact that he played significant roles in them. His commitment led him back and forth from Europe to America since the American Revolutionary War. He never quite settled in one place. It could have been that evil constantly spawned everywhere in the world, or that he continued to feel that wanderlust within him.

Throughout his travels and wars, Legolas learned something important. When Ilúvatar reincarnated Men, it was up to them to continue the constant struggle of good versus evil. When there was no other race to take the 'good' side and the 'bad' side, that duty was split between them. Then again, every creature was capable of evil. Men were more susceptible to it.

What shocked Legolas even more was the unique and 'talented' individuals that stood out in history. Whoever was brilliant, strong, or attractive received their traits from their former life. If one was intelligent, that meant that he was a smart man in the days of Middle-earth. Of course, they did not know it, but Legolas did. It spurred his desire to travel more often. He hoped that he would meet his mortal friends long dead.

With the reincarnation came the powers that some possessed in earlier life. It was not a secret that some mortals possessed some extraordinary skills or talents. Legolas discovered some of these as he lived thousands of years amongst these Men. Some could perform very physically demanding work without a fuss. Others knew things that others could not possibly perceive. Few had powers that allowed them to perform some sort of 'magic.' It really devastated Legolas when most used their gifts for their personal greed.

Stories like Dracula, Frankenstein, Werewolf, and other supernatural stories were never completely fictional. As a matter of fact, any legend, myth, historical fact, rumors, and fairy tales were true more than half of the time. Legolas read all of those stories and came to a conclusion that they were based on those gifted individuals who possessed such power or characteristics. After wars became too vast and frequent for Legolas to participate in, he decided to leave Men's fate up to their hands. Instead, he began to study and fight against the Gifted.

The Gifted, those that possessed unusual powers from their former life, looked just like other human beings. They ate, breathed, and slept in the same way. Other aspects of their life were greatly askew from the 'normal' lives. They lived in the shadows of societies, fighting against the Ungifted to gain control over the Ungifted. They were never very successful because of their diminutive numbers, but it was always sufficient to keep their private wars from being extinguished. Only few others knew of their existence and their purpose. Legolas, one of those few, wanted to learn more.

It was obvious why he was so interested in them. Legolas knew they would be a great threat once their number grew large enough. The Gifted would replace Morgoth, Sauron, Orcs, and other evil creatures of Middle-earth in the balance of good versus evil. If he could not personally get rid of them in time, Earth would be doomed for a great battle. Legolas followed, studied, and interrogated the dangerous Gifted to learn more about them. If he knew more about them, he would have the upper hand.

Legolas's private war against the Gifted took up every day of his life in Earth. They were constantly staging murders, gang wars, and sabotages all around the world and sometimes one Elf was not enough. For hundreds of years, Legolas fought and killed the Gifted. It pained him that his actions somehow determined what path Men's fate would follow, but he could not sit back and watch Sauron's work be replayed by mankind. He had fought so hard to rid Middle-earth of Sauron. He did and would continue to fight against the greedy, the dangerous, and the Gifted to save what good still remained.

Legolas's life and work shattered when World War I began. Knowing that he could not fight the Gifted and help Men level the scale of moderation at the same time, Legolas worked quickly. He fought harder and more quickly to make the Gifted retreat for a while to lick their wounds. When that was done, he joined the Allies with an alias to fight the newly unified Germany and its Kaiser. He personally did not have much sympathy for the Kaiser, and he knew that this was all in the name of aiding good against evil. At this point in the war, the Kaiser was the embodiment of evil.

When World War I ended, he picked up his war where he left off. He continued to fight all around Europe while war-ravaged nations tried to salvage their countries. America, on the other hand, seemed to be decaying with its age of flappers, bootleggers, and materialism. Wealth blinded them from the truth that prosperity was rarely elongated. It was proven when the Great Depression set in. Depression shook the European nations also, but Legolas paid less attention to the economic failings of mankind. Poverty was third to their safety and freedom.

It was amazing how he quickly adapted to the changing world of the mortals. During the days of Middle-earth, immortals paced their own lives. Their life styles rarely changed. If it ever changed, it was very prolonged. Now, living amongst mortals, Legolas was forced to keep up with the changes in views, technology, culture, and life itself. He found himself living in hotels and renting apartments for few months at the most.

Just when Legolas was close to reaching the point of no return in his war against the Gifted, World War II rolled into the scene. Legolas felt a special abhorrence for Adolf Hitler. Hitler's view of racial superiority was against his liking. If Men, Elves, Dwarves, and Hobbits could have lived in relative harmony without war between them, why could not Men live peacefully amongst themselves? He knew the answer, but he asked himself anyway.

While he was in New England to fight a group of Gifted entrenched in that area, Legolas joined the American Army. Calling himself Lex Galen, the immortal Elf became a GI. He fought valiantly, but avoided attention and renown. Through the years, he tried to keep from being immersed in the somewhat reckless lives of human soldiers. The soldiers of World War II seemed less disciplined than the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan were, but they fought well with a good cause. Legolas just detested their excessive drinking of hard liquor and chasing after women whenever time permitted.

When the Allies achieved victory over the Axis powers, Legolas quietly disappeared into the shadows of societies once more. He left behind his identity as Lex Galen to retreat to the Gifted-infested darkness in England. It was strange, though, in the few years following the end of the war. A man named J.R.R. Tolkien published a book called The Lord of the Rings. It came to him as a shock as he read through the three volumes published consecutively in the span of less than two years. It contained vast length of information about the Middle-earth era. It was like a historical document of Middle-earth resurrected!

The book shook him to his bones. How could this man Tolkien know so much about the history of Middle-earth? It even contained some information about Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil! Almost the entire book was nearly true to the history, although some details were filled in. Legolas had to know how he knew this.

In 1955, after the Return of the King was published in England, Legolas tracked down Tolkien. At a pub one night, Legolas approached Tolkien. He offered a few drinks, and soon enough the mortal became drunk. Midst the chattering and roaring people all around, Legolas managed to squeeze out the desired information from the remarkable author. After deciding to find out more about Tolkien's former life, Legolas probed deep into the mortal's mind. He laughed softly when he realized that Tolkien was the reincarnation of Findegil, the King's Writer during the reign of King Elessar.

After he was satisfied with that, Legolas left the book and the author alone. There was no way to connect him to the Legolas of the story since his hat kept his ears hidden. Legolas had not much fear of discovery anyhow since there was not much specific physical description of him in the book. As a matter of fact, none of the figures of Arda were completely and accurately portrayed. It would have been impossible since Findegil never saw much of the Fellowship and everyone in the stories. All Tolkien remembered was what he read and copied from the Hobbits' books in his former life.

Having returned to his war against the Gifted, Legolas picked up his life style of traveling and fighting. Avoiding crowds and daylights, Legolas wandered the world with no particular personal goal. All he hoped to do was to curtail the Gifted and teach them the way of the light. He may have had the right idea for his European campaign, but soon he would learn otherwise about the Gifted and the Ungifted in America - the land of the free, and the home of the _brave_.

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By the way, most names in this story are chosen for their first alphabets _and_ meanings...unless if the character's not that important.

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Please Review!


	3. Citizen's Arrest

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

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Warning: LOTR BOOK EXISTS, BUT ASSUMES THAT THE MOVIES WERE NEVER MADE (although this may have a few movie elements)! Not everything in this story is true to life (i.e.: details of cities, politicians, etc. are altered like comic books and movies) because I'd much rather make up things. Just call me a Tolkienite in that sense - I'm creating a 'new' Earth. Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence. E-mail me if you think this should be R (when the violence comes out, that is).

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: We're getting closer to our time now. Happy? I am. Don't forget to drop a review on your way out (hopefully _after_ reading the story...hahaha).

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The advancing technology of mankind hampered the progress of Legolas's war against the Gifted. He had to avoid being recorded in any sort of file. He knew that if the existence of Elves were known, Men would hunt them down for 'scientific' research. Furthermore, it would slow or halt his fight to keep the evil at bay. What was more, if Legolas staged his own death and emerged again from some rural area, his files would be matched. Men believed in strange things, but they would know that all of those identities would be his.

Legolas wandered around Europe for the fist two decade after World War II. When the drug ring began flourished in America, Legolas returned to the North American nation. He discovered the connection between the drug lords and the Gifted. It seemed that the Gifted began spreading drugs to rule over the addicts in the near future. The Elf detested drugs anyhow, so he invigorated his war with his newfound hatred. Although it was a 'one man show,' as Men put it nowadays, Legolas fought more effectively and efficiently than any of the agencies created for such tasks.

During the 80s, Legolas found it easier to mingle amongst Men in public. Although he still avoided being conspicuous, he felt rather easier. Rebelliousness of the new youth, however, brought about more opposition for Legolas than he would have liked. It did not bother him much to reveal his long hair, although he still hid his pointed ears with bandanas, hats, hoods, and hair. At one point, he considered obtaining plastic surgery to 'correct' them. Then again, the problem of money and identification documents got in the way of his plan. He later decided that he liked his ears and did not want to lose them. It was a constant reminder of his heritage from an Age long past.

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Year 2000...

In Small Paradise, Nebraska, wheat was ripening pretty quickly. A small town of four hundred or so people, it was reminiscent of the wild Frontier. Old-fashioned houses were newly painted with red, white, and brown. Those edifices were lost in a vast sea of golden wheat. As the autumn breeze blew, it caused great ripples in the sea of gold. It was wonderful to behold. Even urbanites could not resist this country beauty.

A small, unpaved road stretched between the giant squares of farms. All houses were quite distant from the road, but one could feel the homeliness of those buildings. An occasional wind blew the thin topsoil of the road, the rest hard packed by the old trucks and horses that passed by. Few people walked along these country roads for a long while because they were so long. However, there was one person marching along.

The tall, lean figure seemed to be gliding. This man was in no hurry as he put one long leg out before the other. He seemed a little over or around six and a half feet in height, and perhaps no more than a hundred and thirty or forty pounds. Although the man was lean, a close observation would reveal hard muscles that did not make him bulky. He had on dark colored clothes like dark blue jeans, hunter green t-shirt, black zippered sweater with hood, and a black leather duster. His black leather boots appeared somewhat yellow from the dirt he walked on. A black baseball cap and sunglasses masked the fair skin of his face. A tail of gold flailed behind him in a ponytail. To top it all off, a military forest fatigue duffle bag was slung over his left shoulder.

He might have been a traveling bum to the casual observer. Still, something set him apart from the dirty and homeless tramps. Something made him stand out as a man of dignity. Perhaps it was his cleanliness or the way he carried himself.

Suddenly, as he glided suavely along the dirt path, he kicked a small rock with his boot. It skipped several times before coming to a rest. When the rock stopped tumbling, the man stopped walking. He looked around him while adjusting the duffle bag over his shoulder. There was practically nothing ahead of him for a good long distance. This place seemed perfect.

The man spoke short words with an old, white-haired man. The old man was dressed in a plaid shirt and overall, wearing a big and warm smile on his face. He said " you want some work, eh? Well, harvest is coming up soon. I hurt my back a few days ago, so I can't do much hard work."

" I'm sorry," the younger man said.

" Anyhow, I'm not rich, so I can't pay you much. Is food, lodging, and $70.00 a week all right for you?"

The young man smiled slightly.

" That's more than I hoped for. Thank you."

Thrusting out his hand, the old man said " my name's Melvin Tate. I'll show you to the spare bedroom."

As the old farmer shook the young man's hand, he felt a strange feeling within him. For no apparent reason, he felt jovial. The young man preferred to go into town first, but he refused Melvin's offer for a ride. Walking on his own two legs, he started out alone.

The sun set quickly tonight in Small Paradise. Just as the man entered a general goods store, it was dark already. He could see an old-fashioned saloon across the street where farmers dropped by for a few drinks. The dark clothed man entered the store and vaguely smiled to the cashier on his way in. He began his trip down the aisles. He picked up a few things as he walked along, then stopped in front of the wine shelf. Sighing softly, he clicked his tongue. Although they were cheap, the wines were all from bad or somewhat less than decent years. It seemed appropriate to get something as a gift to the old couple, but he wasn't sure if he should present alcohol.

While the man looked around, the cashier was eyeing him carefully. The stranger was dressed too darkly and concealing to his liking. Hoping that the stranger would not shoplift, he kept his eyes on him. Although the cashier did not know it, the stranger was only too aware of his thoughts. He was quite accustomed to such suspicions in small towns.

The little brass bell rang as the door opened. Smiling, the cashier spoke.

" The usual?"

The person he spoke to was an uniformed police officer. A _female_ police officer. Her uniform was a little too baggy, and her braided hair was peeping from underneath the hat. She tried to smile as the cashier handed her two cups of coffee. After she handed him the money, the cashier commenced to open the register. Suddenly, a man with a ski mask entered the store with a sawed-off shotgun in hand. The pump's click alarmed the police officer, the cashier, and the stranger.

" Hands up in the air! You! Give me the money!"

The cashier shook as he took the bag the robber handed to him. The police officer and the stranger reluctantly raised their hands. Two cups of coffee cooled on the counter as the cashier stuffed the bag with measly dollars. While the robber took the moneybag from the cashier, the police officer snapped out her gun from the holster. Her hands shook a little as she aimed it at the robber. They were no more than seven feet apart from each other.

" Drop your gun...and the bag!"

Her voice faltered. The robber chuckled.

" Cute, very cute, lil' missy! I can see you're scared, so just drop the gun and let me take the money."

She shook her head as her shoulders tensed. The outlandish man saw her fingers turn pink and white from the pressure on the guns. There was a good chance her shaking arms would miss the target, even if at the point blank range. They were shaking pretty badly by now.

" What're you going to do? Shoot me?"

The robber laughed. Meanwhile, the police officer's nervous finger accidentally pulled the trigger. A bullet whizzed by and grazed the robber's left shoulder. Taking a glance at the wound, the robber waved his hand and hit the officer with the tip of the sawed-off barrel. She fell with a thud. Seizing the opportunity, the robber took several swings at the officer down on the ground. Rough edges of the barrel scratched up and bruised the officer's face as the robber kept on swinging. The cashier looked on in fright, crouched to the corner behind the counter. The stranger just looked on as he deliberated with his conscience and practicality.

As he saw the officer being beaten down to a bloody pulp, he felt the urge to stop it all. Although he wished to stay inconspicuous, this was wrong. He couldn't withstand the cry of the cop either. It was always heart-rending to hear women and children cry out in pain and fear, no matter how many times he heard it.

In a flash, the sound of metal connecting with flesh ceased. The cashier whimpered as he looked at the change in the scenery. It baffled him. The dark stranger loomed over the masked crook, holding up the shotgun with his left hand. There was no expression on his face as he stood still. In the blink of an eye, he dashed several yards and snatched the gun from the crook without a sound. Snarling, the criminal threw a fist at the stranger. A fair-colored hand caught the fist, and slowly squeezed it. Just before the bones snapped out of place, the stranger let go.

" Be a good boy and stay still."

" Fuck that!"

Swinging another fist at the stranger, the criminal threw his whole weight into it. Even with a long leather duster, the outsider swung his leg up then struck it down onto the criminal's forehead. Even faster than the natural falling speed of the human body, the boot drove the head right onto the floor. The heel of the black boot grinded into the felon's forehead. Whining, the robber tried to beg for mercy. The force with which the stranger struck down on his head was like a sledgehammer let loose from a stalwart man.

" Please...don't hurt me anymore!"

" I _told_ you to stay still. You cost me a good night's sleep and a hot dinner, so shut your mouth."

The stranger spun the gun in his hand and slipped his finger through the trigger guard as he grabbed it still. After clicking the pump, he pointed it at the robber's head.

" It's not safe to play with guns."

He tossed it to a far corner of the store, then nudged his boot heel farther into the forehead before lifting it. Groaning and crying, the robber grabbed his forehead and rolled like a child. Meanwhile, the stranger walked up to the bloody cop on the ground who breathed shallowly. He frowned as he lightly tapped the cop with his boot tip. She moaned softly in pain. Kneeling, the stranger placed his fingers on the cop's neck to take her pulse. It seemed that she would recover quickly.

" Excuse me, cashier? How much is the bottle of water?"

The cashier looked at him blankly. This man, dressed in dark clothes, had just knocked a man stiff with one swift kick, but was suddenly asking how much a bottle of water cost.

" Um, that one's one-fifty."

Pulling out a crumpled dollar, then fishing out two quarters, the stranger tossed them perfectly onto the counter. Slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder, he opened the bottle of spring water. He gulped down the cool liquid while walking out of the general goods store. Blinking madly and hearing the brass bell ringing over and over in his head, the cashier watched the man walk away coolly. Now he was left with a bloody mess in his uncle's store as the female cop's old partner walked in. The old man, about fifty four years old, clicked his tongue and scratched his head.

" You did this, Ben?"

As the soft chuckle crept into a slightly hysterical laughter, the cashier shook his head side to side.

" No, man. Some bum in the store whacked the guy. Wouldn't have expected a bum to be a vigilante."

" Was that an SAT word I heard from your mouth?"

" Shock. I'm in shock. I don't know what I'm saying."

" Good. Now, call the doctor."

Whistling as he walked over to his partner, the old man mumbled to himself. Taking her pulse, he radioed the chief as he got back up. His back ached like hell. He was getting too old for this stuff.

****

.......

A/N: Yes, it's safe to presume that Legolas learned a few martial art 'tricks' during his time in Earth. Can't fight evil without 'kung fu fighting!'

Please Review!


	4. Lasting First Impression

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

****

Warning: LOTR BOOK EXISTS, BUT ASSUMES THAT THE MOVIES WERE NEVER MADE (although this may have a few movie elements)! Not everything in this story is true to life (i.e.: details of cities, politicians, etc. are altered like comic books and movies) because I'd much rather make up things. Just call me a Tolkienite in that sense - I'm creating a 'new' Earth. Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence. E-mail me if you think this should be R (when the violence comes out, that is).

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: Please review! It'll make my day! :)

****

.......

" Did you see that bum's face?"

The young police officer's partner shifted on the chair on one side of the small room. At the other side, an old doctor was cleaning and dressing the young woman's face. She winced as the disinfectant stung her face. It was worse than the time half a dozen honeybees stung her arm.

" No. He had on a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap."

Another old man, just a tad bit older than her partner was, sighed as he held his wife's hand. " You mean he had on sunglasses in the middle of the night?" He asked.

" Yes."

" Young people nowadays do the strangest things," spoke the old lady. She walked over to hold the patient's hand.

" Austin, I told you this was dangerous. This may be a small town, but it's not the safest place in the world. You remember how Roy broke Cameron's nose over a bottle of whiskey in a bar brawl last week? And the time Doug shot Archie's leg because his son stole a chicken?"

Austin Arden, the chief of Small Paradise Police Department, sighed once again as he looked at his wife Bonnie. Her light blonde hair merged with her white ones. He, on the other hand, had red hair that now became something like peach as it mixed with white locks.

" What's that got to do with this, Bonnie?"

" You promised you wouldn't put her on patrols. She was supposed to _stay_ in the office."

" Campbell called in sick this morning. I had to send someone out there. What else was I supposed to do? Let Duncan go out alone?"

Bonnie sighed and looked at the young woman with bandages all over her face. She squeezed the trembling hand.

" I'll bring you some soup, all right?"

" Thank you" replied the young woman. The doctor got up and left, keeping silent to stay out of this quarrel of sharp words. He bid everyone goodbye softly, then followed Bonnie out of the house. The other police officer, Duncan Elmer, tipped his hat and left the room. Austin stood still by himself. Slight guilt tugged at him like little children. He felt his throat close up.

" I shouldn't have sent you out there, Charlotte. I'm sorry. I know this isn't what a girl like you should be doing."

Austin stroked his beard, then thrust his hands into his pockets.

" I know young people should be living out in Los Angeles or New York or something, but don't quit. Remember what I told you."

Charlotte, the young police officer, just stared at Austin. After gazing into her dark green eyes for a while to interpret her silence, he said "good night" and left the room. Charlotte watched the brown rectangle door close, hearing it creak softly as it swung on the old hinges. She heard the distinct click, and then she let herself slide down the propped pillows. Her pajama shirt was askew now, but she didn't care. Her face still stung, and her hands were still trembling. She shot a man. Her twitching fingers almost killed a man, criminal or not.

She now knew why Bonnie didn't want her out patrolling, even if her partner was Duncan the veteran. He was getting too old anyhow. Out in a small town like this, people carried knives and guns so casually. Sometimes people shot each other, but it was all alcohol induced. Today, it was not alcohol, but fear. She feared being forced to shoot a man at a point blank range, and that fear made her hands shake severely. Charlotte didn't know she would miss. It was certain in her mind that she would kill him. Days and years practicing marksmanship in the backyard with Austin went right out the window that moment.

Who knew she would miss?

Turning on her side to look out the window, Charlotte tugged at the top button of her pajama shirt. After undoing it, she breathed easier. The cool night air refreshed her stinging face. Soon, the door creaked open as Bonnie entered with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Charlotte sat up and wiped her sleepy eyes.

" Thank you."

Sitting down beside her, Bonnie placed the bowl on the side table. She stroked Charlotte's long hair.

" I know that being a police officer in this town must be hard for you, but don't fret. He'll let go of it someday, and let go of you. Then you can go wherever you want and do whatever you want."

Charlotte nodded slowly, but didn't respond much to Bonnie's acts of affection. Feeling her apathy, the old woman got up to leave. Smiling still, she bid goodnight.

" Rest, darling. You won't have to go to work tomorrow."

Charlotte waited until the door closed completely. Leaving the bowl of soup unattended, the noodle bloating in the cool chicken broth, she stared at the night sky. The stars sparkled brilliantly in the dark blue sky. It reminded her of the neighbor girl's blue velvet dress. The sky was soft and glittery like the cloth. The dark blue sky may have been velvet, but the stars were something else. They were like...

That stranger's eyes.

_Charlotte's breaths were so shallow that she thought she would soon die. The florescent light on the ceiling made everything white to her blurry eyes. She felt disgusted as blood trickled down her face. It had been a while since she felt the wooden floor shake from the weight of the robber and the force of the stranger's descending foot. As she remembered those bees and that hot summer day, the light before her eyes went out. Something nudged her aching side._

A second later, two cool fingers of the stranger landed on her neck to search her pulse. She could feel the soft skin pressing down where her carotid artery and jugular vein pushed and pulled blood around her body. A strange feeling came over her as he held his fingers on her neck. It was like anesthetic to her aching body. After a few seconds, the fingers lifted and she felt her pain return. She gazed at his face as the blur came and went incessantly. The light behind him only provided the silhouette of his head, but she could see that he had on a baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses. They contrasted from his pale skin. Just as his fair skin stood out from the shadow, something else stood out from the dark sunglasses. A pair of strange blue eyes.

" Excuse me, cashier? How much is the bottle of water?"

Charlotte thought she would bolt up right at that comment. What about the doctor? What about the robber?

An atypical tinge of blue came through the black lenses, but a sort of blue she never saw before. Instead of the reflection of her face, tiny specks of dazzling light occupied his blue-grey eyes. Those eyes...they were indescribable. The singular shade of blue provided the background to the star-like lights of his eyes. As if his eyes were not mesmerizing enough, the feel of his fingers on her neck was as if a divine being had touched her. All of her pains and worries were gone for the few seconds those fingers touched her neck. Her only complaint was that her body ached again once he removed his fingers.

She couldn't get his eyes and fingers out of her mind. Charlotte tried to go to sleep, but as soon as she closed her eyes the fingers were back on her neck. When she was awake, her stinging face kept her awake until she became tired of it all. The cycle went on until sleep finally overtook her. No dream came to her that night.

****

.

Due to Bonnie's efforts, Charlotte was able to stay home until her face fully healed. Although her face was bloody when the doctor came, the wounds were no more than minor cuts and scratches. They healed without leaving scars, but that didn't make Charlotte forget everything. Soon she heard the news about the robber. For a few days after the attempted robbery, the Small Paradise Police Department tried to find the vigilante, but gave up afterwards. There was nothing to go on except his clothes and long blond hair. That wasn't enough to begin a detailed search. What would they do after they found him anyhow? It didn't seem worth the effort to Austin, so he declared an end to the search. After a few weeks, when Charlotte was back on the job, she continued the search on her own while juggling the mountainous paper work.

Charlotte thought she had forgotten that man, at least during daytime when stars were in hiding, but it surfaced again. As she was filing some documents, she came across a report that a young bum asked for work, but never came back after going into town. It was filed by Melvin Tate, but he was known to have some 'strange' moments. Once he reported that he had seen a strange object in the sky like a UFO. Although that was long time ago, Austin, Duncan, and Campbell all ignored him because of that one claim made a decade ago.

For days and weeks, Charlotte went through all the files that was available to her to look for the man. The police department had a pretty decent Internet service, so she was able to request and receive files that she thought was relevant. She found nothing after a few weeks, and thought it best to give up. Still, she saw his eyes every night she gazed out her window. Charlotte tried to make herself indifferent like everybody else, but that man had an aura that she could not ignore. Melvin said the same thing when she met him at the Town Fair. He said that he felt something strange when he shook that young man's hand - as if an angel had touched him.

After hearing Ben's account of the event, she came to a conclusion that perhaps he used to be in the military. It explained the skill with which the stranger struck the robber. That still didn't explain everything she wished to know, but she settled for it. What was the point? He was gone and there was nothing to say except 'thank you' if she met him again. She should just forget it and go on with her life as Austin instructed. So she did...

****

.......

A/N: More action, romance, and other stuff coming up soon. I'll explain more stuff as this story unfolds. Drum roll would be appropriate at this moment, since we're _really_ getting close to our time now! Review!

Please Review!


	5. Two Detectives and a Lunatic

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

****

Warning: LOTR BOOK EXISTS, BUT ASSUMES THAT THE MOVIES WERE NEVER MADE (although this may have a few movie elements)! Not everything in this story is true to life (i.e.: details of cities, politicians, etc. are altered like comic books and movies) because I'd much rather make up things. Just call me a Tolkienite in that sense - I'm creating a 'new' Earth. Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence. E-mail me if you think this should be R (when the violence comes out, that is).

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: A review would be nice...would you be a dear and drop me a line? ...hahaha...don't mind my patronizing word 'dear.' But please, give me a review.

****

.......

Year 2004...

" If cops are associated with donuts, what does that make us?"

A sandy haired man turned his head to see the person to his right. Sitting in a car this way always made him uncomfortable. It was only when they were in a car like this. He had six months to get used to it, but he still found it more uncomfortable than being stuck with a hostage situation. It was much easier to shoot the criminal's head or hand than to sit so close to her.

" Char?"

The young woman next to him had her back to him. Her long brown hair was tied into a ponytail, and her partially exposed neck made him shift a little in the driver's seat. All of her attention was concentrated on the restaurant across the street.

" Enough with the binocular already. He'll come out the front door, trust me."

" Are you sure?"

That made him choke on his words. It reminded him of last night's dream. He shivered and braced his arms by grabbing onto the steering wheel.

" So, what about it?"

" What about what?"

" ' If cops are associated with donuts, what does that make us?' "

The woman tossed the binocular to the back seat and sighed.

" A pair of idealists."

He chuckled for a moment. They didn't eat donuts and they drank Starbucks coffee instead of donut house coffee. That was because they were relatively young compared to the rest of the department. Other detectives were family men and women of forty or more years, and the uniformed cops were in their late thirties at the least. He was rapidly approaching that age range.

" How did I get around to drinking Starbucks anyhow?"

" Me."

She picked up her cup and drank the last drops of her latte. The man marveled at the sight of the lipstick-free cup.

" Why do you like Starbucks? You know they're overpriced, right?"

" Yeah. I just want to enjoy this big city living."

" Making up for lost time?"

" Whatever."

The man was named Gregory Todd. A 34-year-old detective of the New York Police Department, Greg was a man of few words. He found his partner a challenge when she transferred from Small Paradise, Nebraska. She spoke even less than he did. It was a strange phenomenon to him because his wife was much too talkative for her own good. Wait...ex-wife. Charlotte and Greg spent about ten more minutes in the car full of silence. Greg couldn't stop thinking of the dream he had last night. It made his heart pound so fast and loud that he wondered if Char would notice. Her first name was Charlotte, but he liked to call her Char.

When Char first transferred to the NYPD, Greg groaned at having a rookie detective as his partner. His previous partner retired on his fifty-sixth birthday, but now he was stuck with a young woman. He also didn't like the fact that she was from the middle of nowhere. How would he be able to go at his own pace? Greg was in for a surprise when she arrived. On their first patrol, she proved more experienced than he expected. Although she had been a detective for only 18 months in Small Paradise, she learned much after her first experience of pulling the trigger at a man. Char still had a lot to learn, but he liked her silence.

" Hey, there he is," said Greg. A man walked out of the restaurant with a woman in his arms. They were both dressed lavishly and jewelry hung heavily about their neck, wrists, and fingers. Despite the restaurant's trendy reputation, it was obvious that their ostentatious trinkets did not belong in a classy neighborhood.

Their target parted ways with the woman when the valet brought up his flame-red Ferrari. Greg grunted at such brazen choice of color as he started up his own black Mustang. Specks of dust spotted the car like a black leopard. Greg meant to get it washed, but something always came up nowadays. A murder here and a robbery there always delayed everything he planned to do.

" Get the binocular. You'll need it," said Greg.

They followed from far away, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible. Through the binoculars, Charlotte kept her eyes on the car like a hawk on its prey. Giving short, concise directions, she managed to keep her calm through the building tension within the car. A jolt went through her like excitement or anticipation, but it was really the breaking of nerves within her. Would she have to pull the trigger on a man again? So far Greg handled all shootouts like a pro, so she never had to bother with shooting at a man. A few warning shots or cornering shots - Greg's nickname for shots meant to corner a target to a desired point like whip on cattle - was all she ever did. Charlotte still avoided shooting people unless if she knew the injury would only be a minor flesh wound. There was no pity for the criminals, but she felt something different.

" He's slowing down. I think he saw us," said Charlotte as she placed more focus on the interior of the car. She was watching for movements, but there wasn't much of anything in there. The tinted windows made it much more difficult to see anything inside.

" You think he'll pull over or turn around?" Greg asked.

" Pull over, I think."

Sure enough, the red Ferrari turned right into a dark but wide alley between abandoned warehouses and factories. Greg slowed his Mustang and came to a halt. His leisurely composure contrasted with Charlotte's tense movements. Her hand went straight for the holster as the driver's seat door of the Ferrari opened. A leg came into sight, then the other. Soon a head emerged.

" Time to tango."

Greg smirked at Charlotte as he opened his door. She hesitantly opened hers as she slipped out the gun from the leather holster at her side. The man looked as sinister as a mobster would, but she tried to brace herself. She was a detective now, though still a rookie in the streets of New York. When she got out of the car, she saw the man chuckling as he slowly made his way towards Greg.

" Clive Edward, you're under arrest for three counts of kidnap and murder. Put your hands against the wall."

The man named Clive kept chuckling. When he looked up, his face was pale as the moon in the Mustang's headlight. After his chuckle reduced down to nothing, he licked his lips, then took out a cigarette and lighted it up.

" You cops should just go back to a coffeehouse or something and keep out of business you'll never understand," he said. With a long inhale, the cigarette burned up almost completely. He threw it on the ground and grinded his shoe on top of it.

" Add a count of littering on your criminal resume, Mr. Edward. Do what we say or you'll wish you never pulled over."

Clive laughed, then rushed at Greg. Before Greg could pull out his gun, Clive was at his throat. Charlotte's eyes went wide at the sight of such speed. It was not as fast as that man at Small Paradise was, but he was fast. She aimed her pistol and shouted.

" Back away or I'll shoot you in the head!"

Her voice echoed in the close alley. As it trailed away, another sound died away. It was the soft sound of hard rubber sole against the asphalt, cadence-like until it utterly stopped.

" Get your hands off of his neck, you bastard!"

A dark figure at the alley's entrance peeked at the scene. Soon Clive took his hands off of Greg's neck. Gasping for breath, Greg leaned against the hood of his car. Clive spoke.

" Put that away, little girl. You don't know whom you're messing with."

Charlotte thought she would pull the trigger, but Clive suddenly loomed before her. His hand was on the end of the gun barrel.

" Do you want to be shot!?"

She tried to kick him, but he grabbed her ankle and held it up. Charlotte used her other leg to kick his jaw, then pulled the trigger. Blood from his hand trickled on to her face as she felt her own rushing into her head.

" You fool."

Clive yanked the gun from her hand, then tossed it way up into the air. Everyone heard it land on top of the roof of the building behind Clive, including the person at the alley's entrance. The dark figure swiftly climbed up the side of the building to retrieve the pistol.

" Let go of her now!"  
Greg shot Clive on the arm that held Charlotte's ankle. None of his muscles budged. Charlotte felt her head throbbing as she continued to wriggle. Greg ran up and pressed the gun barrel on the back of Clive's head. The stranger on top of the roof looked down at the mess below.

" Let go or I'll blow your brains to bits!"

Clive turned around to face Greg.

" Go ahead. I will come back. You can't kill me."

" The hell you will."

Greg pulled the trigger, and the bullet entered Clive's head. The exit wound splattered flesh and blood on the wall and Charlotte. She groaned when she fell onto the ground and Clive's lifeless body dropped on her. Wiping at the blood on her face, she shoved the body off of her. The hand was still on her ankle. After freeing herself, she made a premature attempt to get up. Stumbling back down and grabbing her head, she glanced at Greg. He offered her a hand.

" Are you going to be okay?"

" Yeah."

Charlotte stumbled a few more times before she sat on the car hood. Greg radioed for what he needed, then stared at the bloody mess.

" This never gets old. Some poor bastards think they're gods or something. Come back to life my ass."

The shadow on the roof made a swift jump across the gap between the buildings. The landing was as swift and silent as one could imagine. Thrusting hands into the pockets of the black leather duster, the figure walked away with Charlotte's pistol in the pocket.

Just when the shadow leaped across the alley, Charlotte looked up from where she sat. She saw nothing in the night sky, but she looked anyway. Vaguest sense of someone's presence made her look, but nothing was there except the struggling stars. Flickering dots of silver contested with the smog and clouds. Charlotte sighed, then leaned against the windshield as she rubbed her aching ankle. That lunatic sure had an iron grip. Her ankle ached like hell.

****

.

After other cops came to clean up the mess, Greg and Charlotte left the scene to relax and recover. They would have a ton of paper work tomorrow anyhow, so they might as well as seize the chance to rest. At the parking lot of an English style pub, both sat in the car with their chairs back. Greg was drinking his third bottle of beer while Charlotte lay still. He turned his head to look at her. She didn't drink any of her beers.

" Aren't you going to drink yours?"

" Unless I want to spend the night in this parking lot."

" What do you mean?"

" We're cops. We can't drink and drive."  
Greg reached for one of her bottles, nodding as if he cared about that at the moment. He had bought half a dozen at the pub, but brought it into his car. It was soccer night in there and the hooligans were making too much noise. He had nothing against soccer, since he played some in high school, but it was just too much noise.

" You're so law-abiding, aren't you? Nothing illegal at all, all by the book. You're going to learn that sometimes you have to improvise."  
He heard no reply.

" Char? You asleep?"

" No."

A small pile of napkins from the pub lay beside the empty beer bottles. Charlotte had used them to wipe the blood from her face and hands, and they began to stink.

" Why are you a cop? Aren't you sick of the bodies and the blood and the danger?"

" It's all I know how to do."

Greg finished off his fourth bottle, then sighed.

" You father's a police chief in Small Paradise, right?"

" Foster father," Charlotte corrected. She turned away from Greg.

" Right...his name's Austin Arden and you're Charlotte Norwood. I forgot. Sorry."

Playing with the brown beer bottle, Greg whistled a little and then stopped. He put the bottle with the other ones and brushed back his long hair. He needed a haircut badly.

" What happened to your parents? Does that have something to do with you being a cop?"

" It did, but not anymore."

" What do you mean?"

Charlotte took up a bottle of beer. She never drank alcohol before, but now she suddenly felt like it. The memory of her past always made her uncomfortable. Perhaps if she drank, she wouldn't feel that way.

" My mother died when I was born. She was too weak. My father raised me. A lousy father he was."

She tried to open the bottle with her hands, but failed. Greg tried to open it for her, but she refused to let it go.

" Imagine being raised by an alcoholic womanizer. I never learned anything from him except to stay away from alcohol."  
Greg snatched the bottle away from her. Charlotte didn't retaliate. Rage made her go on with the tale.

" When I was nine, he decided that he'd try a life at Las Vegas. He always lost poker games, but he thought he'd make it in the Sin City. One night, when I was sleeping, he left with everything that was worth anything. Austin and Bonnie took me up after their only son died in a tractor accident. They wanted me to continue their line of police chiefs, so that's all I ever knew. Even high school and college never lured me away from that path. Austin was so hell-bent on making a police chief out of me that he never let me have other thoughts."

Greg shook his head as things began to swirl before him. He always became tipsy a while after his fourth bottle of beer. Charlotte continued.

" I hated being something I didn't want to be. I only did it because they gave me everything anyone could ever want, but I didn't want them. I still don't know what I want to do with my life."

Greg slurred " why are you still a cop?" Charlotte let a few silent moments pass by while she deliberated in her mind. Something was in her mind, but she didn't want to talk about it. She decided to change the subject.

" Why are you a cop?"

Too drunk to notice that she never gave a reply, Greg dug through the cloud of haze in his mind.

" My girlfriend from college liked macho men, so I became a cop. Not a soldier, though, because they go away for such a long time."

He opened the bottle of beer, then gulped it down like crazy.

" After one year, she married me, so I thought I'd stick with it. Ten years we were together, then on our tenth anniversary, she tossed divorce papers at me. Something about cops not making enough money. She wanted a lavish lifestyle, see? She made me get this Mustang too. We didn't have children either because she didn't want to ruin her figure and bother with messy children. What a conceited control freak she was."

He gulped down the rest of the beer.

" We divorced a month ago. I thought I'd turn over a new leaf and start fresh, but damn! I'm too old now to start a new career from scratch! I can't compete with young people like you. Now I have to stick with what I'm good at."

He dropped the bottle, then slurred something inaudible to Charlotte. Before she could ask him to repeat it, he fell asleep. She looked at him for a while, wondering how she'd move his drunk body into the back seat. After a few minutes of struggling, she managed. It was time to drive his drunken body to his house.

****

.......

A/N: Stupid QuickEdit...now the asterisks and other symbols have to be changed to something else! Grr! Anyhow, we're up to our time now, yay! Sorry for taking so long to put this up. I was busy up until today. What do you think of the violence? The fight scene will be kind of like that. The more enemies, the more bloody it'll get. Email me if this should be R. Anyhow, next chappie will focus more on Legolas (instead of a cameo like this one). By the way, Clive was not crazy...oh, the suspense!

Please Review!


	6. Roommate

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

****

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! Please!!

****

.......

" I hate this job," said one morgue worker as another worker slid in a body into the cabinet and slammed the door. On their way out, they saw a few police officers leaving. The morgue was dark, and only the hallway and the security room were lit. Night shift workers joined the security guard in the guardroom, watching TV and laughing it up. It was for the better that they were neglecting their job.

A window slid open in the room where bodies were kept. Without making a sound of any sort, a shadow entered through the window. It was the form of a very tall man clad in a long duster with a sweater hood over the head. Even without turning on the light, he managed to find the recently closed door, then opened it. A pungent smell leaked from the steel compartment, but he did not flinch. Even with super-developed senses, he withstood the horrid stink. One of his hands pulled out the panel on which the body lay. He recognized the face from earlier tonight.

" Time to depart this world and on to the Beyond."

With one swift movement, he pulled out two long knives from behind his waist. They glistened from the pale moonlight filtering through the windows. He slid the blades under the neck, both facing upward. Swinging his arms outward, the perpetrator managed to cut the spinal cord between the vertebrae. His movements were so quick that the blades cut through without getting bloodied. Before pushing the panel back into the metal compartment, he slid the knives back into the scabbards on the back of his waist. This Gifted named Clive Edward now would never be revived by those who had the power to bring the recently dead back to life. When all that was done, he slid back out the window and closed the window. His job was done for the night.

****

.

That same figure now stood before the door to an abandoned store in the quiet area of the city. He had the keys to the door in his hand, but he put them back in his pocket. Knocking instead, he waited.

" Who is it?" Someone asked from within.

" It's me."

The door opened just a little bit before it swung back completely. A teenage girl of about eighteen years stood before the strange man. Her light brown hair was disheveled and her clothes were wrinkled. She had been sleeping on the old rocking chair, cuddled up.

" What took you so long? You should've been here three hours ago."

She looked at her wristwatch.

" No, four hours."

Without a word, the man just walked over and shed his duster and hooded sweater. They reeked of blood and embalming material. Just before sitting down on the wooden rocking chair, he undid the belt that held the scabbards to his waist. He flung it onto the table nearby.

" Did you finish all of your homework?" He asked.

" What do you think I am? Of course I did."

He could smell the cold food in the kitchen. This place was the living quarter behind the abandoned store.

" I told you not to make food for me any more, Emily. They always go to waste."

The girl retorted " I keep cooking so you'd take the hint and come home a little early."

The man just chuckled.

" What made you so late tonight, Mr. Lee Evergreen?" She continued sharply.

Lee closed his eyes. He wasn't physically tired, but his felt weary at heart and mind.

" Taking care of details that others overlooked."

Emily curled up in a sofa beside the rocking chair and looked up at Lee. His lovely blond hair glittered in the dull lamp light. She wondered how it was always so perfect. As she wondered, Emily fell asleep while Lee stayed up. His eyes were open again.

****

.

Lee Evergreen did not _really_ exist. He had no driver's license, no credit card, no insurance, no social security, and no birth certificate. Yet, he was a tangible being. He lived in an abandoned building in a quiet, but shady, neighborhood. He paid no utility bills, but he secretly connected a few things to have the necessary electricity and water. Lee never used much, so the companies never figured it out. He had such knowledge, yet he never had a job.

Mr. Evergreen had a secret that he only knew. It was something that he never even alluded to since he immigrated. His dear secret was rare and fatal. If anyone were to know about it, either that person or Lee would have to die - most likely it would be the other. He kept it quiet for so long, but he did not forget about it ever. It was as clear as his heritage. He remembered his homeland and all sorts of memories of his childhood and teenage years. Even those details were a part of his secret. He was a walking mystery that was tangible yet invisible. No human being would ever understand what sort of secret he held within him.

Mr. Lee Evergreen, the invisible man, was really...the immortal Legolas Greenleaf of the Eryn Lasgalen.

****

.

Emily Beaumont, the girl asleep on the couch, did not know about Lee's mysterious identity. All she knew of him was that his name was Lee Evergreen, and that he fought strange 'cultists' based in New York City. She didn't even know how old he was or where he was born.

Emily had a troubled past. Her parents divorced two years ago, and now she lived with her father. She never found out where her mother went to, but she didn't really care. When the news of their divorce reached her, she cut all her ties with both her father and mother. Her father was a gambling druggie who never cared where his daughter was or what she did. It was because of that reason that Emily could stay so long and so often at Legolas's house. It also accounted for their encounter.

After her parents split, Emily soon became a delinquent. She hung out at arcades and other teenage hangouts by herself and became estranged from her friends - not that she had many. Emily was not pretty or ugly, but she was alienated because of the rumors about her father and some about her flirtatious mother. For a year, she barely passed her classes and reached her senior year at Island City High School. Just as school started, she met Lee.

It was late in the afternoon when Emily was walking home from an arcade. She was tired from the button pushing and steering-wheel-jerking. Most of her money was spent on the games, and she was hungry. If she wanted dinner, she would have to go home. With her near-empty backpack slung over her shoulders, she put on her headphone. Turning on her CD player to full volume, she began walking along the streets of New York.

She was midway home when a stranger appeared before her. The man held a knife in hand and a cut-up ski mask over his face. He demanded money, but she had spent them all - save a few leftover quarters. Before she could say anything, Lee emerged from a dark alley. His hood covered the top half of his face. It only took one blow to the jaw to scare away the robber, and Lee hadn't even warmed up yet. Emily tried to thank him after shifting her gaze from the running crook to Lee, but he was gone. The luring enigma behind this tall and strong stranger made her determined to make acquaintance with him. Perhaps it is the allure of the 'bad boy' and 'macho man' images that got into her, but there was something very pleasant about him.

All night, morning, and school time were spent thinking of a way to find him. After a very distracted discussion with her self, Emily decided in the end to wait at the same spot at the same time. The afternoon proved much too difficult to pass until that moment. She tried playing games, listening to music, reading magazine, and even doing her homework, but nothing could keep her mind off of that man. What she would say to him...

_Emily shivered in her old sweater and jeans as she stared at the darkness of the alley. The streetlamp just above her head made shadow of her trembling figure. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was near time. A figure emerged from the shadows. The man had on a baseball cap and the same leather duster from the day before. A pair of sunglasses kept his face obscure._

" What are you doing here again?" He asked. She rubbed her hands together.

" I wanted to thank you for rescuing me last night."

" It was nothing."

The man walked past her and turned right, the direction away from Emily's house.

" My name's Emily. What's your name?"

He stopped. For a moment Emily thought he would light a cigarette or something.

" Why do you want to know?"

She had expected that. Who in their right mind would give their name to a girl who waited in a strange alleyway to wait for someone she didn't know?

" I'm trying to strike up a conversation with small talk, you know."

He turned around slowly. She suddenly noticed that he had a long blond ponytail.

" Go home, Emily."

" I'd rather not. You wouldn't want to go there too if you knew what it's like in there."

" Try me."

Emily stared at him blankly at his remark.

" I meant that I'd walk you home if you're afraid to walk alone."

She had a strange suspicion about his kindness. Nobody around here was this nice.

" What are you, a cop? Why are you so nice?"

" Call me a vigilante."

She motioned for him to follow with her head, not wanting to expose her hands to the freezing night air. He kept walking at a slow pace far behind her, but his strides were long. His footfalls were inaudible, as well as his breathing. For a moment Emily forgot that he was really walking behind her. She thought that she was imagining it all.

When she arrived at the steps to the apartment she lived in, she turned around. That man was about to leave when she stopped him. He turned on his heels silently, then crossed his arms.

" What?"

Trying not to sound like what she was really feeling, Emily casually threw a few words at him.

" What's your name? Really. I gave you mine, so it's your turn."

He smirked. His teeth were white and straight, and his smile was as proportionate as it could ever be.

" Lee."

Lee commenced to walk away when she yelled out at him.

" Lee what?"

" Lee Evergreen."

With that she watched him fade away into the shadow of the streets, blowing warm breath at her hands. Lee's voice was very soothing and pleasant. It made her want to bawl out her life story at him - as if he cared and would comfort her just because she wanted him to.

That was how Emily attached herself to Lee. She wanted someone soothing like him to be there for her. All her family and friends were as unreliable as a balancing scale that had to be tuned every second. After exchanging a few words, she felt like Lee could take the burdens off of her shoulders and solve all her problems for her. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone solid to rely on? To have someone to watch your back and protect you?

That was precisely what Emily was dreaming of this moment. Snuggled up in the side of the couch closest to Lee, she was dreaming about having someone to depend on. Her parents were such a mess that she would be better off alone. Her friends were hesitant in getting to know her because her father was a gambling drunkard and her mother was a lying adulteress. If only she could have someone to like her for who _she_ was, not who her parents were. It really sounded like an utter cliche, but she was tired of people judging ' books by their cover.' Lee's voice convinced her right away that he wouldn't do that. Emily convinced herself after a short and empty conversation that she could depend on Lee to like her for who _she_ was. Like he would protect her from those who didn't understand her...

****

.......

A/N: FYI, I didn't base Emily on myself. The last few paragraphs will have importance later on, so don't think this was a superficial attempt to insert a Mary Sue into this story. Many of my OC's (if not all) represent all sorts of underdogs of society.

Please Review!


	7. It’s a Small World After All

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: I threw in a little surprise (my 'connection/explanation' of LOTR and real historical events) in this chappie, so read and REVIEW! I repeat, REVIEW!

****

.......

Emily yawned and stretched as quietly as possible to prevent waking Lee. However, when she turned around, she saw that he was wide-awake. His enigmatic blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She loved to gaze at his face. Sometimes she wondered if he ever considered being a movie star or a model. He would have made a lot of money.

To Legolas, flattery was just an uncomfortable coquetry that made him more aware of his current situation. It troubled him to hear people say that he looked like he was 20 or 21. It was only an infinitesimal fraction of his real age, a few dozen to tens of thousands. If he were to reveal his true age, nobody would believe him. If he were to say anything beyond 25, people would laugh at him. That was how young he looked. His father Thranduil and others seemed slightly older after a few thousand years, but Legolas never seemed to change. Only the depth and the light of his eyes changed.

" Are you awake?" Emily asked. She poked at his arm, but he didn't flinch.

" What do you want to do today, Lee?"

Legolas exhaled silently and then slid down the rocking chair. Resting his chin on his chest, he thought of how Emily always hung out at his place. She slept at her home, woke up and went to school. After school, she'd come over to his place and stay there until Legolas went out for 'patrol.' He would walk her home, then begin his nightly routine of hunting down dangerous Gifted. On weekends, she came on Friday afternoon and stayed until Sunday night. He was outraged at how her father could be so indifferent about her activities. Parents are the most influential element in a child's life. If parents are never there for their children, it makes life so hard to live through.

" Whatever you want..."

" Really?" She cut in.

" ..._If_ you hang out with your peer a little more afterwards."

Emily frowned. She was really beginning to hate everyone except Lee.

" Then I'll just stay here with you."

Somewhat frustrated, Legolas decided that he should do something to change her gambling alcoholic father. Perhaps a little talk would be nice...maybe a threat if it didn't work out. He really didn't want to resort to such cowardly methods like threats and unnecessary violence.

" Never mind. What do you want to do? No catch."

The teenager thought silently for a while, then jumped up. She picked up yesterday's newspaper and flipped to the entertainment section.

" How about a movie? The old Haven Theatre's playing an independent film on The Iliad."

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment. He remembered the nine long years of laying siege upon Troy. As a 'whisperer' in the Achaian camp, serving under Prince Odysseus of Ithaca, he watched warriors take advices from the so-called gods of Olympos. They were only a group of very powerful Gifted, not gods. It was tragic how so many people died over what began as a complicated love affair. His heart pitied those who only followed the orders of their greedy leaders. Lord Agamemnon and Menelaos should have negotiated instead of taking up spears and swords. Alexandros, also known as Paris, should have kept his eyes and hands away from another man's wife. Helen should have made her mind known for wanting to be with her family and friends back in Argos. Sensible Odysseus and wise Gerenian Nestor both should never have encouraged the Achaians and their allies to march for war instead of sailing back home. So much death and pain over two young lovers eloping, and the failure of a lord to humble himself just once, was not right. Menelaos's honor may have been tarnished, but was it worth the innumerable deaths and the sack of Troy?

" Anything else?" Legolas asked. He really didn't feel like going to go see a movie that glorified an event that really was a foolish mistake on part of the Ungifted and the Gifted.

" They're playing some old classics."

" That's fine. Not that Iliad one, though."

Shrugging her shoulders, she took her backpack and took it into the bathroom. Legolas heard the door lock. She would clean up and change before they went out. He knew he should be doing the same too, but he didn't feel like moving. Just as he tried to make himself get up, he remembered that he had taken that detective's pistol last night. He had picked it up on the roof. Legolas reached for the duster lying on the floor with his boot, then kicked it up and snatched it with his hand. The pistol was still in the pocket. From the weight of the gun in his hand, none of the bullets in the magazine were missing.

Toying with the pistol, Legolas decided that he should return it. He had no use for such a weapon. Guns could kill Gifted, temporarily, but it could not prevent them from being revived. It was amazing how far mankind had come in technology, but they didn't know how to properly eliminate the Gifted. They didn't even know about their existence.

' I'll think of a way to return it,' he thought.

****

.

Legolas and Emily arrived at the Haven Theatre later in the afternoon by taxi. He was dressed in his regular clothes, and Emily was dressed in jeans and sweater with a jacket over it. Her light brown hair was down and fluttering in the wintry breeze.

" Not many people here, huh?"

Emily hooked her arm around Legolas's and dragged him along to the ticket window. It didn't take long to get the tickets and the concessions. Legolas bought her whatever she wanted, not that she wanted much. It amazed him how much sugar she could consume all at once. The aftereffect of that sugar gorging wasn't pretty either. It was like getting drunk, except with sugar.

" This way, Lee!"  
She skipped her way to the right room while popping candy into her mouth. Legolas carried the little paper box of food and drinks. He really didn't enjoy drinking soda, but Emily insisted. When they settled down in the back of the room, the movie began. The room was only half filled, but it was noisy enough. There were just about to settle down.

The movie was half way done when a couple in the middle of the room began making noises. First it was giggling, then laughing, then a complaint, then a shriek. Legolas and Emily peered ahead, as well as everyone else in the room. The woman had resisted after the burly man, covered in tattoos, tried to kiss her. Now the man was standing up, threatening everybody to sit back down and keep off of his business. He sat back down, and tried to kiss her again, but she pulled away. He slapped her face and she began to cry. Nobody stood up to help her.

Legolas frowned. He wanted to help her because that's what he does, help people, but he didn't want to make a scene. What if someone already called the police and he got caught on the way out? They'd take him to the station along with the odd couple. The police would search for his name and would find no record of him - that would start a whole chain reaction of 'who are you' and 'stop lying.' He just couldn't afford to get caught in this high tech world.

But he still had to serve justice in a world of injustice.

" Keep your hands to yourself," said Legolas. He was still sitting down. There was still hope within him that perhaps he could resolve this problem verbally.

" Shut up, twerp!"

The man grabbed the woman's arm and tried to pull her along. Legolas rose slowly, his hands still in his pockets.

" You shouldn't force your will upon others."

Letting go of the woman's arm and cracking his knuckles instead, the burly man walked up to Legolas. Emily tugged at Legolas's sleeve, but he didn't back down.

" Talking poetry, eh? Sit your ass down, pretty boy, or I'll break your nose and knock in your teeth!"

Legolas, his hands still in his pockets, took a step away from Emily to keep her away from the oncoming fight.

" I'll give you one free shot. If you miss, you leave the lady alone. If you hit me, do whatever the hell you want."

The burly man's potbelly jiggled when he laughed out loud. Other audience members just looked on in apprehension. That tall young man would never last against that brute.

" You're pretty funny."  
Legolas glared at him through his dark sunglasses. His opponent could feel his fiery eyes on him.

" I'm not joking."

The tattooed man took a swing at Legolas. Emily screamed and covered her face. She didn't want to see Legolas bloodied. In a flash, Legolas moved a step to his right. Nobody could believe it. It was as if he disappeared, then just appeared two feet away from his original point. His hands were still in his pockets.

" Now, leave the lady alone and either enjoy the movie away from her, or leave the theatre now."

" Over my dead body!"  
" Don't provoke me."

He laughed once again to make himself look tough; the man shoved Legolas by pushing his shoulder.

" What? Are you chicken?"

He laughed again. Legolas felt no rage within him. He said, " fool. Shut up and sit down or leave."

Others now began to murmur at Legolas to quit antagonizing the brute. He wasn't antagonizing - he was merely speaking what was moral and proper.

" You asked for it, pal!"

The burly man let rip another punch aimed at Legolas's jaw. The Elf stepped aside once again, except he took his hands out of his pockets and twisted both arms behind the man's back. He groaned and snarled as he tried to free himself.

" I asked you nicely several times now. If you don't behave, I'll have to kick you out of here myself."

" Fine! Fine! Just let go of my arms, man!"

Just as Legolas let go of his arms, he took off like a madman. Others just clapped and cheered, but Legolas didn't say nor do a thing. He offered Emily his hand and pulled her along when she dumbly took it. She didn't know why he offered his hand, but she took it.

" What're you doing? I want to finish the movie!"

" We have to leave now. The cops are going to come."

With that they left the building just as they heard the siren down the street. Just as he pulled Emily along out the door, a car with a red siren on top halted by the sidewalk. Doors to the black Mustang opened and two detectives stepped out. The old usher met them.

" The molester ran that way."

The two detectives looked down the street opposite the way Legolas was going. Suddenly, Legolas and one of the detectives had a strange jolt in their hearts. The Elf kept walking on, dragging the complaining teenager along. The detective, on the other hand, saw the view of the great metropolis swirling and fading. Taking in a sudden gasp to rejuvenate the oxygen supply, the brown haired female detective turned to look all around her. Her eyes jumped all over the streets, not knowing what to look for. All she saw was what she saw everyday out in the streets - people and the skyscrapers looming over the streets. The blue sky became small as the buildings stretched and curved before her eyes to block out the cloudy sky.

By then, Legolas and Emily had disappeared from her sight.

" Char, are you okay?"

She didn't respond. She kept turning very slowly, scanning every square foot of the streets over again. There was nothing that gave her that jolt in her chest again. They were just the average cab drivers, pedestrians, hot dog venders, and pigeons. There was nothing different about this at all.

" Hey, something wrong?"

The other detective now took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her towards himself. Her eyes were still wandering all over the place. Suddenly, she blinked and snapped out of it.

" Sorry, Greg...I don't know what just happened to me."

" Well, snap out of it. We're still on duty for three more hours."

Legolas and Emily had turned down a narrow alley, walking very fast. At least Legolas was, and Emily was just trying to keep up. It was dark and a bit dank from rain this morning. Emily jumped over puddles while the boot-clad Legolas just tramped over it all. He mind was racing through his memories, too busy to care about puddles and such things.

" What's wrong with you? Are you in trouble with the law or something?"

Legolas halted. Emily looked bewilderedly at him.

" Remember that I told you I was fighting against those cultists? I'm not a cop or an agent. If I get caught, I go to jail."

" Why are you fighting them then? Why not let the cops do it!?"  
She was angry with him. How could he not think of her and risk his life like this?

" They don't know how to deal with them, and never will."

He was calm all this time. He never raised his voice. All that occupied his mind began disappearing one by one until a blankness was left.

" Why? What makes you so special that you can only fight them? They're only human, for crying out loud!"

She yanked her arm from his grasp. He didn't try to hold on to it. They stood silently for a while, and then Emily spoke first.

" I...I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight."

Silently, Emily took a few steps forward, then took one of Legolas's hands. He slipped his hand out of her grasp, then wrapped it around her wrist and pulled her along. They were still too close to the theatre to be standing around like this. Legolas and Emily disappeared into the darkness of the alley, weaving through the city to get home.

****

.......

A/N: Haha! See what I did with the so-called independent film on The Iliad? Days beyond being timely, but whatever. Can't mention Troy outright because this fic assumes that the LOTR movies were never made, so Orly can't be famous enough in this fic to get such a prestigious role, right? Details, see? Details! Also, the names of the Greeks, the Trojans, and Mt. Olympus in this chapter are spelled as they were in my The Iliad book, so don't complain about them to me! I know the 'proper' English spelling of these words, but I thought I'd follow the book.

Please Review!


	8. A Bruise to Remember By

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: Just something I really wanted to address... To answer Kelsey (and probably those who were wondering, but just didn't bother reviewing), I am aware that Tolkien somewhat based the Valar off the Greek/Roman gods and goddesses. However, I connected the Olympians with the Gifted because do you think Manwë, a Vala of integrity, would have so many bastard children? Would the revered Varda be such a bitch and try to kill all of Manwë's bastard children? Would they interfere so much in the path of mankind like it's a game? You know... As for 'will Emily find out that Legolas is an Elf,' 'no one is a bad guy,' and 'too little ME element' issues, I have something already planned out. Keep reading and you'll see. Btw, I don't think a duster will be so conspicuous in a place like NYC. America is a strange but interesting place. Anything can happen, believe me.

****

.......

It was night once again in New York City. Darkness swallowed the Western Hemisphere, and only cities were lit with artificial streetlamps. In New York City, it was the same. Cars and streetlamps lit up the city like a Christmas tree. People were still out walking and driving at midnight of a Saturday evening. It all seemed normal.

Legolas was on patrol again, wandering the streets of New York by foot. He had the detective's gun in his coat pocket. His fingers kept running along the edges and the angles. It was smooth and cold against his flesh. He stopped touching it as soon as people came closer to his proximity. Pretending to look at his watch, Legolas entered a phone booth and ran through the long list of names in the phonebook. He was looking for Arden, but none had the first name of Charlotte. Yes, he recognized her voice that night when he picked up the pistol. It took him a while to go through all of the voices he had heard over the millenniums, but he did it. He was glad it was quite a recent memory too.

Frustrated, he leaned against the glass wall and flipped through page after page. He couldn't call the police department for her number - she was a cop after all. The other option was to drop it off at the station. How could he drop it off without being seen by the nightshift cops there? Simple.

He walked blocks after blocks to get to the police station. The building was partly old and partly new from the renovation, but he could tell that it was purely functional. Uniformed officers walked in and out with criminals cuffed and huffing. All Legolas could gather and guess was that Charlotte worked here, late into the night. It was amazing how a girl from such a small city in the Midwest could be quite well off in a place like New York City. He knew from Melvin Tate's talk that she was like a daughter to Austin and Bonnie Arden. How far she had come. Literally.

' Where can they find the gun,' he wondered. He could leave it on the roof, but who knows how long it'd take before someone would come across it? ' Damn the Gifted and their resurrections...'

Legolas backed into a shadowy alley before a cop passed him by. His blue eyes twinkled as he watched the old man walk by. He was drinking a large cup of coffee to keep himself awake at this time of night. It was near midnight.

' What to do, what to do,' he thought apathetically, ' time's running out.'

He strained his ears to hear anything people were saying in and out of the police station. The screaming of criminals hurt his ears, but he kept listening any way. There were some cops boasting about a drug bust, and some about chasing down a murderer. Way inside the station, he could hear a talk about a break-in at the morgue. Legolas couldn't help but smirk a little when he heard that they couldn't find any clue as to the break in. All they said was that when the morgue workers came to bury the body, someone had cut the back of the neck and between the vertebrae. The spinal cord had been cut perfectly and expertly. That was his work all right.

" I don't know what kind of a sick bastard would do that to a corpse, but hell! He deserved it. Trying to choke the life outta Greg and Charlotte! Poor gal. Shoulda stayed in Whatchamacallit City in the middle of nowhere. The girl may be pretty good in detective work, but she just can't handle the stuff that we men can."

Legolas frowned. First of all, the cop had just called him a 'sick bastard.' Secondly, that cop was clearly a sexist in the field of law enforcement. If she had good marksmanship, quick thinking, and other talents related to detective work, there was nothing that could stop her from being as good as the rest of the 'guys.' There is no such difference in work when it comes to gender. If Charlotte couldn't handle it that night, all she needed was a little more experience.

' An unappreciative lot you are...'

Legolas was about to focus on a different group when he heard something completely unexpected.

" That Charlotte Norwood ain't so bad, though."

Norwood?

" Whatever."

Walking back out into the artificially lit streets, the Elf peered around for a telephone booth. Charlotte Norwood. It was no wonder a Charlotte Arden wasn't listed.

As soon as he found the name and the address, he memorized it and left for the apartment she lived in. He hoped that the mailboxes had the same number as the apartment numbers. If not, he would have to risk opening the door and leaving the gun inside the apartment. All he wanted this moment was to get back out into the streets for his patrol.

It took a good long time to get to Charlotte's apartment. He picked the lock on the door and entered. All the mailboxes were in neat columns and rows, but the numbers didn't correspond with the number of apartment rooms. He'd have to break in.

After climbing up the lot of stairs, Legolas silently picked the lock. He slowly turned the knob and entered. It was pretty dark, but the outside light dimly lit the outlines of objects. There was not much in here except the bare necessities. One thing he could tell was a cluster of piles of paper lying around in stacks. There were some manila-folders full of files, as well as paper and pen. It seemed to him that Charlotte barely had a private life outside her work.

' Where can I leave it?'

He went over to the kitchen. She must eat breakfast, so he thought he should leave it somewhere near the fridge. When he actually entered the kitchen, he found it practically empty. If she couldn't find a black and chrome colored gun in the middle of a white kitchen, he'd go nuts. Legolas reached for the gun, but as soon as he took it out, he heard another gun being cocked.

" Who the hell are you?"

Legolas didn't move. He stood still.

" What the hell are you doing in here?"

He cursed himself for not paying so much attention to movements inside the house. He was so focused on the bareness of the apartment that he didn't notice someone pulling out a pistol from a holster.

" I'm a detective. If you don't answer me right now, I can arrest you." She paused for a while. " I'll arrest you whether you answer or not."

" I've come to return your lost gun, Detective Charlotte Norwood."

Her eyes widened in surprise and fear.

" How do you know my name? What are you, a stalker?"

Legolas chuckled in a serious tone. However, she didn't find it funny in any way. Still aiming her pistol at him, Charlotte got up and walked over to the kitchen. In an almost nervous way, she snatched the gun and threw it far away. Now she reached for the handcuffs and tried to put one link on his right wrist. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it. He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't get arrested either.

" Let go!"

She kicked the back of his knee, but he didn't budge as she thought he would. He was stiff as steel. Not wanting to fire her gun, she whacked Legolas on his back with the butt of her pistol. He still didn't budge.

" What are you!?"

She tried to yank her wrist free, with no avail, and then Legolas pulled her arm and flipped her onto the ground. Groaning, Charlotte let go of the pistol and felt her head and back aching like crazy. This guy had slammed her to the ground in a flash without the slightest effort. When she opened her cringing eyes, she saw two familiar things in the darkness above her. It was a pair of blue eyes that she recognized from four years ago at Small Paradise. They were still the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen.

" You!"

Legolas let go of her wrist. He was sure this 'reunion' had gone bad enough without him still holding onto her twisted wrist.

" You disappeared without a name!"

Struggling to get up, Charlotte kept her eyes on him the whole time as if he would vanish if she changed her gaze.

" I...I wanted to thank you for rescuing me that day."

She supported her back with one hand as she pushed back loose strands of hair behind her ear with the other free hand. Legolas just put his hands in his pockets and looked straight at her.

" No problem," said Legolas. He turned around to leave, but she called out his name. She obviously sounded upset over something.

" Wait! You're just going to leave after you slammed me on the floor? A hardwood floor?"

A short laugh came out of the dark vigilante unexpectedly.

" Sorry, but you left me no choice. It was either that or something more horrible."

Turning around slowly, taking his time, Legolas looked at her. Although she had dark circles around her eyes from sleep deprivation and wincing from pain of being floored, Charlotte looked much better than the time he left her. This was certainly improved from a bloody and swollen face.

" I have to go now."

He spun around and reached for the doorknob, but her arm stopped it from grabbing the old brass knob.

" What's your name? Austin still has blank spaces in his report instead of your name."

His smile bewildered her.

" Let's just keep it that way."

She still didn't let go.

" A name, please."

Legolas laughed. It only made him look even younger. She thought that he hadn't changed at all. Perhaps he was only in his teens when he was at Small Paradise.

" Lewis Gratian."

He gently took her hand off of his arm and went out the door. Charlotte saw his shadow merge with the darkness of the hallway, fading to join a greater blackness. Now she was left alone in her apartment, and silence swallowed her. After he left, and she was physically parted from Lewis, she felt her pain return. It was just like her first encounter with him. When his presence faded, pain emerged. Now it was not just her back and head that ached. Her neck, wrist, and leg hurt. All of which, except for the neck, were used to strike or receive blows. Charlotte felt as if she had kicked a brick wall hundreds of times, and her twisted wrist felt as if it had been twisted for weeks without being straightened. Whether he deliberately tried to hurt her this much or not, she couldn't tell.

Charlotte couldn't think of anything but the pain.

****

.

" Jeez, what the hell happened to you?"

Greg's wide eyes marveled at the disgustingly black and blue bruise peeking from Charlotte's shirt collar. The same color peeked from her left wrist too from under the sleeve.

" Nothing."

He could tell she was slightly limping and favoring her back. For once, she was walking with a slouchy posture. Greg couldn't help but worry. She had been fine when he left her at her apartment when their shift was over. Over night, she came with an inhumanly dark bruise all over her.

" Something's wrong, I know it. What is it?"

For a moment, a train of wild thoughts rushed past his head. Did she have an abusive boyfriend or ex-boyfriend that he didn't know about? Did the man see him drop her off last night? Perhaps he misconstrued the ride he gave Char. Then again...

" Who hit you? Or did you fall on your back from somewhere?"

Ignoring the sarcasm of the last sentence, Charlotte didn't say anything. It wasn't that she had moral detestation of telling a lie, but she couldn't get her stories straight after a while. That always got her in trouble with Austin and Bonnie. She learned a few years ago to keep quiet instead of lying. She didn't mind lying; especially if it did more good than harm for her, but it just doesn't work out for her.

" You can keep quiet, but I know something's wrong. That bruise is the worst I've ever seen in my life. If you can't tell your partner what's troubling you, how in the hell are we supposed to trust each other with our lives?"

Greg stood right before Charlotte so she couldn't enter the police station without pushing him aside. She sighed and stood, waiting for him to be done with his little 'oration.'

" You watch my six, I watch yours, remember?"

She nodded, then pushed him aside. Greg couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

****

.......

Please Review!


	9. Manifestations

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

****

.......

A man, dressed in a very sharp suit, sat in a shady corner of a chic bar in a fashionable restaurant. He had a slim briefcase beside the chair. No one sat beside him. His hands were folded neatly upon the counter, seemingly waiting for something or someone. A glass of amber liquid was before him, the droplets of water trickling down the side. It formed a ring of water on the napkin.

The man was entirely focused on the TV across the room. An anchorwoman finished speaking, and then the scene changed to a conference meeting in the New York City Hall. The current Governor of New York spoke about the upcoming election, but with the usual mix of apathy and enthusiasm. He had been elected last election solely from the fact that the other candidates were not worth the paper on which the ballot was printed. This Governor seemed pretty competent, but the quality of living in the state was slowly dropping. His scandal of allegedly taking bribes also tainted his already-second-rate reputation.

The view of the Governor and his wife changed to another man and his family. This man was considerably younger, probably in his early forties or even late thirties. His wife was also young, standing with her three children before her. The oldest was a smart looking young boy, and the younger two were adorable little girls. This younger man seemed to have the perfect family reminiscent of the 50s.

The man in the bar grinned. When the young candidate finished his speech, horde of bystanders, reporters, and supporters of the candidate applauded and chanted the man's name. They shouted, " Earl-Harris, Earl-Harris, Earl-Harris!" It kept going strong when it switched back to the anchorwoman.

" Do you want another beer, Sir?" The bartender asked.

" No thank you."

The man paid and rose with his briefcase in hand. He had to do quite a weaving through the entering crowd to get to the door, but he did it with ease. When the doorman opened the double doors, a black limousine was waiting under the maroon and gold marquee.

****

.

" How did an ex-Delta Force get around to running for the Governor of New York? At age 37 at that?"

Greg had his eyes glued to the TV in the diner. He was barely watching his hands as he poured sugar out of the packet into his coffee. He spilled a little to the side, but he made it.

" Maybe it's because his father was a politician. What do you think, Char?"

She finished drinking her coffee, then looked up at him. He seemed less infuriated with her than the day before. Her body still ached.

" He's just picking up where his father left off, so to speak."

Greg raised his brow. Charlotte hadn't spoken anything so lengthy for almost a day now. He rested one of his elbows on the table, then his head on the hand that rested on the table. With the other hand, he stirred the spoon in the coffee cup. The clinking of the spoon to the cup filled the gap of silence between them. He knew that she was looking at him as if he had gone crazy.

" I'm just tired," he said. Greg lifted his head, then drank his coffee. Damn, he was acting too strangely nowadays.

" Here's the ice," said the waitress as she dropped a small bag of ice on the table. She saw Charlotte's bruise and gaped in horror. " What in fiery hell happened to you?"

" Nothing."

Charlotte took the ice and covered her neck and wrist with it. She quietly held the ice to her bruises as she saw people staring at her from the corner of her eyes. It was embarrassing to sit in the middle of the diner with people trying to get a good look at your very black-and-blue bruises. All she wanted to do right then was to cover her face with her jacket like criminals and rush out of the building and into the car.

" So, who do you think is going to win the election?"

" It's too early to say."

She looked out the window beside her. Every moment she felt like Lewis Gratian would pop out of nowhere and walk by the diner, wearing sunglasses and a hat to obscure his identity. He was wearing sunglasses on both occasions she had seen him. Whenever she thought of him, the image was wearing a pair of plain black sunglasses. It was an awkward image, as if it was a sketch of a criminal. Still, she knew the color and shape of his eyes. Nobody could miss those.

" How did you get the bruise?"

' That came out of nowhere,' thought Charlotte. They were talking about the gubernatorial election one moment, then her bruise right after. She thought he had forgotten, but he was a tough nut to crack.

" Come on. You expect a detective to just ignore a repulsive bruise on his partner?" He blinked madly, then shook his head and hands. " Sorry...I didn't mean 'repulsive' like that..."

" It's just a bruise, okay? You don't get this hyped up about anyone else's bruise!"

Charlotte tossed the bag of ice to the side of the table, then sighed. Greg watched her run her hand through her hair in frustration. Her brunette locks were of lush, vivacious color. Too bad the day was too cloudy to let sunshine bring out the lighter shades of her hair.

" Sorry, I didn't mean to yell like that."

Although she apologized, Charlotte was still somewhat angry. The first five out of six months that they worked together as partners, Greg was always handling everything as if she couldn't take care of herself. Most of her work consisted of paperwork, calling for backup, and watching his back while he took care of the situation. It wasn't that she enjoyed police work, but she didn't want people to think she couldn't even take care of herself. Perhaps he saw that robbery incident in her records and thought she still couldn't handle even a simple robbery. Well, he was definitely wrong.

****

.

In a vast, semi-dark office, that man from the bar sat by the window with his elbows on the armrests. He was facing the window behind the desk, looking down upon the people and cars moving about in the streets below. There was a diminutive smile on his lips as his clasped hands rested upon his chin. The scene below amused him. They were like ants to a man in such a high altitude. He felt like a giant, carefully inspecting an anthill.

An electronic buzz rang, and then a human voice spoke on the speaker of the phone.

" Mr. Frank Haydn is here to see you."

" Send him in."

The man kept his chair turned as the double doors to his office swung open. A tall man, dressed in a black suit, a gray shirt, and a red tie, took gigantic strides towards the desk. With a sudden halt, he tossed a piece of paper onto the desk. Through the glare of the window, the black-clad man saw that the man in the chair was smiling.

" What's so funny?" Frank asked with a little acid in every word.

" You."

He swung around to see Frank standing with a slight frown. His hands were still clasped and on his clean-shaven chin.

" What's this?" After seeing the paper, which was actually a photo, he chuckled softly. " You're upset about this? Clive Edward's death? Or is it the failure of a necromancer to resurrect him because he was getting stoned?"

The man in black thrust both hands into his pockets and scoffed incessantly. He paced about before the desk like a deranged psychopath. The man in the chair followed him with his eyes

" The necromancer got to the morgue all right," he said between nervous scoffs. " It's just that when he got there...Clive's spinal cord was cut clean!"

Just as Frank Haydn yelled the last bit, he slammed his fists onto the desk. There were cracks spreading from the epicenter of the blow. Frank's knuckles were red and white as he further grinded them into the heavy mahogany desk. Even though that alone would have scared any ordinary person, the other man only chuckled.

" What's funny now, Don? Mr. Heath? Do you think your money will solve everything? Something or someone's out there, fully aware of our existence! It's out to find and destroy the base of all our activities!"

Don - Donald Heath, the president of Forte Conglomerate - put his finger to his lips as he made a gesture for Frank to lower his voice. Although his office was soundproof and bulletproof, he liked manipulating other people. It was a fringe benefit of being a rich and powerful executive CEO of a global company.

" Fully aware of _your_ existence, you mean, Frank. Don't be so light in the usage of the words like 'us' or 'our.' "

Frank couldn't help but display a scornful glare at the rich man. He did work here, but it was solely for money and the power that came with his position within the company. He had no personal admiration or anything of such sort for Don. In other words, he hated Don's guts, but licked his shoes for the power that trickled down to his own position - both professional and personal. It was either the grime licking or the menial tasks.

" You're an accomplice, don't forget."

Don raised a brow at Frank. " Was that a threat? I can cut off the finance just because of _your_ insubordination."

Frank rolled his eyes. " No."

" Sir..." said Don as he grinned at the man before him.

" No...Sir."

With that, Frank stormed out of the office, muttering as much insults he could think of involving the phrase 'rich son of a bitch.' The secretary looked on in wild curiosity as she stopped typing on the keyboard. She didn't catch any of it, but she knew from his face that Frank wasn't too happy with something. It usually takes a lot for Frank to lose his temper like that in front of Don. When the CEO isn't around him, Frank was venomous as spiders, snakes, and scorpions all combined.

" Uptight rich bastards," she said as her fingers glided over the keyboard once again.

****

.

Legolas seemed sound asleep upon the rather short couch. His feet were well beyond the armrest and his head was propped up by only one pillow. Arms crossed and ankles crossed, this Elf was enjoying the moment of silence. It had been three minutes or so since he lay down, waiting as instructed by Emily. She was boiling water for tea, his favorite beverage of the mortals. Although it was his favorite, he missed drinking the more savory, luxurious teas in embassies in Asia and Europe - especially Beijing, Tokyo, Kyoto, and London. As far as he could remember, they had the best teas.

" It's ready," spoke Emily. She walked out of the kitchen with two cups of green tea. Just as she placed one on the table before Legolas, she nudged at him with her knee.

" Is it better than last time?"

The Elf opened one and glanced at the tea. The color was a much lovelier hue of green.

" Better."

With that he snapped up, sitting upright as usual. Emily settled on the rocking chair, her legs under her. She only sat there because Legolas, rather Lee, sat there so much. Still, it made her feel more homely and safe whenever she sat there. It had a feeling she couldn't describe with words, no matter how beautiful it sounded or how lovely it was phrased.

" Next time, I'll make the red kind," declared Emily. She felt even more in debt to Legolas after she blurted out hurtful words at him. It was more than obvious that he was doing everything for her good. Had it not been for him, she would be a druggie just like her dad, wasting her life. Now she had a chance at something, although her freshman, sophomore, and junior years were utterly wasted. She could still make up for it in other ways. Emily was glad that at least she wasn't a completely hopeless case. It was all thanks to Lee, and she wanted to make up for it all. From now on, she would make up for being such a delinquent most of her life, for being an academic failure until she met him, and for being a ' parasite.' Perhaps he would be married right now if she weren't here to bog him down. He was certainly handsome enough to get married to anyone he wished.

" I know what you're thinking. Don't," said Lee. His eyes were closed as he drank his tea.

" It's not like I'm going to rob a bank to repay you or anything."

She finished her tea, but left a little in the bottom of the cup. Emily still wasn't used to the bitterness of tea.

" Emily...I didn't turn your life around. I merely showed you a different path."

Legolas put down his cup and looked at Emily. She was curling her hair around her finger.

" No matter what you believe, I know that I met you for a reason. I still can't figure out what it is, but I'll find out. You've given me everything I never had before."

There was only one thing for Legolas to do to keep the words in her throat _in_ her throat. He knew they were lingering there since he bumped into her, but he didn't want to hear it. He had been avoiding it since he departed from the harbor of Valinor. He never wanted to hear it during the days of Middle-earth, so he definitely wouldn't want to hear it now in the days of Earth. Legolas didn't want to hear anything, but he wanted to know something. What led him out of the safe land of the Immortals?

Rising abruptly from his seat, Legolas took the two cups on the table to the kitchen sink. Emily wouldn't say it if it weren't to his face.

" It's five already. Pack your stuff."

' He knows what I'm trying to say' thought Emily. It was only human nature for her to hope for whatever was preferable to her own good fortune - whether it was true or not. She sat silently for a while, trying to cheer herself up. Soon she would have to return to the hellhole that was home and begin a new week. Time flew so quickly to her eyes.

****

.......

A/N: Mwahahaha! Lots of clues to keep you guessing! ...Guessing in your mind, that is. Btw, guess what time it is! Reviewing time! Corny, I know... What can I say? I'm getting tired and coffee-deprived.

Please Review!


	10. Two Vague Clues

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me! My general disclaimer (that I don't own anything that already has a trademark/copyright/patent/etc.) applies heavily in this story because familiar consumer products, companies, celebrities, etc., will be mentioned.

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: To address Lady Jane... As for the Germans of the WWI era being neither good nor evil, that's the gift of hindsight. We had decades to study and analyze, so yeah...I agree that they really weren't evil or good (depends on how you look at it). In war, each side thinks they're the righteous ones, but only one can be right. The Allies had a 'moral' advantage due the American's Wilsonian Idealism (you know...war to end all war, make the world safe for democracy). Morality over greed - what else can I say?

Now to answer Kelsey (and also those who questioned the need for Legolas to have romance in this fic) about the pairing! Well...(insert a devious smile here)...I have something planned out already.

****

.......

Legolas was walking ahead of Emily in the dark streets. His hands were in his pockets and his head was bowed slightly. Along the years, he also formed a rather pointless habit of counting the number of steps he took within the little cement squares. His long legs and strides made it an average of one and a half - a boring and useless habit, but it was one of his habits nonetheless.

" What are you going to do tonight, Lee?"

The Elf didn't say much except, "nothing." He kept on counting his paces, wondering how he attained the habit. A short search within his mind led to the answer. He once saw a little boy count his steps in the streets of Los Angeles. Very focused on his task, the boy didn't notice that he was nearing a corner. A blue sports car was speeding down the street, going on the road that would soon cross the way the boy was going. Legolas knew he had to save the boy, but his target Gifted was making a run for it the other way. He thought the boy would stop. He thought the driver would halt. With a heavy heart, Legolas took only a second to throw his knife at the Gifted's back. Just as the blade squeezed in between the vertebrae, he heard a thump behind him. A reckless drunk driver crushed his hope.

" Well, you've gotta be doing something tonight."

" Huh?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, Legolas looked back at her. Emily was looking at him strangely, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously at him. They stood still that way for a while. Honking could be heard from a distant street. The streetlight shone down upon them. Shifting a little from discomfort, the girl walked ahead and tugged on his duster sleeve. Legolas began walking again, still in complete silence. He stopped seeing the boy who counted his steps, but he still heard the thump repeat over and over in his head. There was no tear or pain, but the thump.

It took a little while before they reached Emily's house. It was a small place, dark and dirty. There was only a faint light in one of the rooms, filtering out of the half-closed blinds. Legolas stopped at the gate while Emily went on towards the porch. He saw her look back at him as she opened the door. He had to look away, but he knew she was still looking at him. Without glancing at her, without a good-bye, the Elf just walked away.

****

.

Legolas was doing his round of patrols once again, walking around the good and bad streets of New York. The Gifted could be found anywhere, but recently they have been appearing quite often in the business, classy, and upstate areas. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to go so often to the upstate area as much as he would have liked, but no major problem had arisen there. The Gifted in those areas seemed to be more civil about their behavior in public. For all he knew, they killed and tortured the Ungifted in their cellars, but they were nice as hell in public.

His immediate problem was the ones who kept appearing around stylish restaurants and business centers. Some seemed like normal humans in business suits, but he could feel their presence even from far away. It was bothersome sometimes to feel the presence of all Gifted every second of his life. In other cities - except Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami, and Washington D.C. - the average would be one to three at any given time. In the five major cities, he could sometimes feel up to a hundred at once.

What concerned him more was that these Gifted began making frequent appearances in government and business complexes. As a matter of fact, there are more than a handful of Gifted tycoons of the business world, and about three Gifted Senators and Representatives in the Congress. So far, from having known each and every one of them, Legolas knew that all of the Presidents were Ungifted.

The frightening thing was...one could be a Gifted and not know it for the rest of their lives.

****

.

**Be silent. Be still. Listen. The Gifted are calling all comrades. Ungifted, beware, for they are coming. A mist of darkness comes with them, infecting the world. They are invading every moment, everywhere. Listen. Can you hear it? The silence - they are drawing near. If you are a Gifted, join for glory, or refuse for death. If you are an Ungifted, brace for war...for they are coming.**

****

.

Two men stood around in a dark alley, one of them holding onto a cell phone. A car was parked in the middle of the alley, headlights on and pointed towards the two men. After closing his flip phone, the taller man sighed.

" It's not there."

The other man began making excuses, complaining about how his girlfriend must be running low on gas or got caught by the cops for speeding.

" It's not my business to care about that, is it? All I know is that the money didn't get transferred and time is up. It's already midnight and you haven't paid your dept, pal, and I have my orders."

Now pacing to and fro, the other man pleaded.

" Please don't hurt me, man! Go to my girlfriend's house! She'll have the money! I gave it to her, I swear! If you don't have it, she's keeping it away from you!"

Cracking his knuckles, the tall man grinned.

" I don't care if you're having problems with your girlfriend. We gave you a month to get back the money you stole from the boss. If you don't have it now, we'll have to kill both you and your girlfriend, then take back our dough."

" It was all her idea, man! She suggested it!"

" Stop yapping!"

" Call my parents, they'll send you the money!"

" Too late, pal!"  
He punched the other man, then a fight began.

Legolas was a few blocks away, trying to make his way to a decent bar. He suddenly wanted to drink a nice glass of wine, but then he thought it might be conspicuous in a mediocre bar. Perhaps he could drink a whiskey, then buy a bottle of wine on the way home.

He heard a fist connect with a jaw.

' Here I go again...'

Legolas began sprinting at a fast pace with light footfalls. His heavy boots made no noise as he rushed by block after block. Within a minute, he neared the block that was previously far, far away. Peeking around the corner, listening carefully, Legolas studied the situation. A large man was holding up a smaller and bloody man to the wall, about to hit him again. A black car was situated in the middle, hiding everything but the two men's heads. After a careful look, he also realized that there was a man inside the car, having a smoke. He saw three men, and he felt the presence of three Gifted. This had to be interesting.

Swiftly and silently, Legolas unsheathed his White Knives. They gleamed of silver and gold in the mixture of pale moonlight and streetlight. His arms hung by his side as he watched on, concentrating on their conversation. It seemed that the smaller man owed the other two some money.

He pulled his right arm behind his back and over to the left. Just before he let go, he heard something strange. This little quarrel seemed to involve more than money. It only made sense. Fighting amongst themselves outside their base was rare for the tightly knit Gifted. If they ever fought, it concerned breach of oaths, wrongfully dishonoring another, betrayal, and such other reasons. Money seemed like a petty cause for an attempted murder. Legolas decided to keep them around long enough to find out some information that he'd been itching to find out.

Waiting until the tall man was still, Legolas swung his right arm outwards and let it fly. The knife silently flew in the night air, entered through the hand, and then became embedded in the brick wall within a blink of an eye. The tall man's hand twitched as the other hand let go of the smaller man and tried to pull the knife out of the wall. Frightened, the bloody and shaking man looked ahead of him towards the opening of the alley. For a second, he saw a small white flash. Soon the other White Knife thrust its way through the jacket and into the brick wall.

Just as Legolas began walking towards the panicking Gifted, the third man exited the car. He seemed better dressed than the other two. Dropping the cigarette butt and grinding it to the wet asphalt, he looked up at the dark, hooded figure walking his way. There was nothing in his hands.

" You did that?" He asked. Looking up cock-eyed at the Elf, he pulled out a 9-mm pistol. He aimed at the figure that was closing in constantly. Slowly, but steadily, Legolas was getting closer. The smaller man squirmed out of his jacket and tried to make a run for it. Without taking his eyes off of Legolas, the man with the gun shot the smaller man on the leg. He howled in pain.

Legolas thought, ' fortune and glory ever corrupts Men...'

The smaller man kept holding on to his leg as he cried. The man with the gun shouted to his friend by the brick wall.

" Stop whining and pull out the knife!"

The other replied " you try! I can't do it!"

Still pointing his gun at Legolas the man walked backwards to help out his friend. They whispered a little as they struggled with the knife.

" Nice mess we're in, Lloyd! Boss ain't gonna be happy when he hears about this."

The man named Lloyd, the man with the knife in his hand, kept crying and whining as he looked on at Legolas. All he could see now was a black silhouette of him against the blinding headlight. He shook for a reason he couldn't tell, but he knew for sure that he was becoming frightened by this tall, silent, black figure. There was a certain presence that made him relaxed, yet scared at the same time. A part of him felt one thing and the other part felt something different.

" He's coming, Rick!" Said Lloyd. Rick turned around and aimed his pistol at Legolas's head.

" I'll blow your brains out if you come closer!"

Legolas suddenly sprinted at an unbelievable speed, unseen by the eyes of the Gifted. While they blinked their eyes once, he already loomed over them with Rick's gun in his hand. It was pointed back at the owner's head.

" Now that the table's turned, I'm going to ask you a few questions," he said. The others just looked fearfully at him, wondering what had just happened. Legolas nudged Rick's forehead with the gun barrel.

" Will you behave?"

Rick nodded, but he threw a punch at Legolas. The Elf dodged the flying fist, then used the momentum to swing his leg at Rick's chin. The Gifted took it pretty well for a mortal, then threw a kick of his own. Legolas jumped back to dodge it, then lunged at Rick. Abandoning his friend for a moment, Rick ran aside. The Elf's boots slid along the ground as he came to a halt. Rick was making a run for the car, and then closed the door when he was safe inside. He revved the engine as Legolas glared at him through the windshield. Rick was smiling like a madman.

The car began speeding towards the wall, and then Rick jumped out of the car and rolled on the ground. Still moving, the black car came within a yard of Legolas. He pulled out the dagger in Lloyd's hand and pushed the mortal aside...then leaped up into the air. Crashing with sparks and noise, the car burst into flames. Rick thought Legolas was sandwiched between the brick wall and the car. Laughing and choking on his saliva, he staggered up to Lloyd while holding his stomach.

" The fool sacrificed his life to save you! Ha ha ha! What kind of a fool does such a thing?"

Lloyd gasped and pointed, making Rick turn around to see what he was pointing at. It was Legolas, still standing and unscathed.

" Why won't you die!?"

Rick pulled out a gun from Lloyd's holster, then emptied the whole clip within a few seconds. When the flashes from the muzzle subsided, they didn't see anything where Legolas stood a while ago.

" Where are you, coward!?"

Seething with fear and hatred, Rick looked all around him. Legolas was standing on a balcony that was two floors up. He was pointing Rick's own gun at him.

" Who's your boss, Rick? That's your name, right?" Asked Legolas. He didn't sound like he was out of breath. He was as sound as he could possibly be.

" What's it to you!?"

" Don't be rude now. Tell me now, and I'll let you off easy."

Lloyd, now dazed from the loss of blood, leaned against the wall. He began sliding down to the ground, holding on to Rick's jacket sleeve. The third man tried to strike a bargain with the foe.

" I'll tell you everything if you let me go to the hospital!"

Legolas jumped off of the balcony, landing without a trouble. Rick put in a fresh clip and tried to shoot Legolas, but the Elf dodged the bullets while walking up to the third man. They only heard clicks as Rick tried to fire the emptied gun.

" You're only a grunt. I can't trust your information," said the Elf. He shot the man on the forehead, then kept walking up to Rick and Lloyd. Lloyd was as pale as a corpse, on the brink of death. Legolas knew he wouldn't survive anyhow, so didn't bother wasting a bullet on him. Now he had the gun pointed to Rick's head once again.

" Who's your boss?"

Rick laughed, pretending to be brave, but Legolas could feel his fear. It was written clearly upon his face. The profuse sweat was enough to show his fear. Legolas unsheathed the knife he had taken out of Lloyd's hand. He put it up to Rick's throat, pinnacle to the flesh. The blade was ice cold to the touch.

" I have no pity for your kind, so you might as well as tell me now. I am not for torture, but I will perform it if you do not cooperate."

Rick said, " who...who are you?"

" I asked you first. Who's your boss?"

" I swore an oath. I can't tell you!"

Frustrated, Legolas drove the blade into the throat, wedging it between the vertebrae. The body became limp and fell to the ground after Legolas pulled out the knife. He kneeled and wiped the blood on the corpse. Then he looked at Lloyd, lifting the chin with the blunt side of the blade.

" Who's your boss?"

Lloyd, shivering and stuttering, managed to utter something before dying.

" New man...strong..."

The dying man said no more, leaving nothing but two very vague clues. After checking Lloyd's pulse, Legolas stabbed through the neck and cut the spinal cord. He did the same to the third man's body, then walked over to the wall. The third man's jacket was still burning on the brick wall while the fire on the car was dying away. Legolas pulled out the knife and sheathed it along with the other one. All this trouble for practically nothing. Instinctively, he checked all of their pockets for IDs. He found none, but he found a piece of paper with someone's address written on it. The Elf pocketed it as he got up, looking down at the three bloody bodies. As he said before, he felt no pity for their kind.

He didn't want to interfere with the course of mankind's future, but something was so wrong about it all. One strange feeling got him into this mess, but he kept himself in it. His instinct told him there was something greater overshadowing this war of Men - something only he seemed to sense.

****

.......

A/N: Oooh, long (and foreshadowing) chappie! You'd think Legolas would take a vacation or resign to go home, but no! The hero must fight! Just to let you know, I thought "Gifteds" was weird, so "Gifted" can stand as singular and/or plural. Same goes for Ungifted. Ta ta!

Please Review!


	11. A Troublesome Vision

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes, and quite a bit of violence.

--_Italicized_ words indicate flashbacks during present time--

--Underlined words indicate time--

--**Bold** words indicate special first point of view notes--

-- "" indicates fictional city/company/politician/etc.--

A/N: After Ch. 10, I'm wondering if I should change the rating to R. Is this too bloody and descriptive? Will it affect some of you readers? You'll still read this, right? Right? Well, if you're reviewing this chapter, please tell me your opinion on this. I don't want my account closed because of mis-rating a story. Thank you and enjoy!

****

.......

Legolas arrived home a few hours before sunrise, then freely dropped himself onto the sofa without a care. Whether he liked it or not, scenes of the fight flashed by in his mind. Each face appeared in a red pool of blood, then disappeared when a freefalling drop caused ripples in the pool. When the ripples settled down, the next face appeared. After all three faces materialized and vanished, his mind raced through all of his battles, bringing up other pale faces he thought he had forgotten. The Elf flinched, then turned to his side and gazed at the worn sofa fabric.

There was a time in his life when he didn't feel any remorse. Now, it was a different story.

Once upon a time, as Men would say, Legolas was a proud, fierce warrior. He had no fear, and nothing was impossible to him. That was when he was full of confidence, youth, and slight immaturity. Failure and impossibility were only reserved for the very rare moments of doubt. Despite the seemingly limitless confidence Legolas had, witnessing Gandalf fall into the abyss of Moria showed him a totally different angle of looking at life and one's purpose of existence.

Legolas was still a proud warrior. He still retained his fierceness. The only thing that made him different from the warrior he was in the days of Middle-earth was the knowledge about mortality. After feeling that strange emotion, the Elf was never the same about holding a weapon against an Elf, Man, Hobbit, or Dwarf. Witnessing good Men die made him hardened against his foes, but it also made him more aware of the effects of mortality. Since then, he could not kill without feeling remorse overshadowing his rational judgments. Before Gandalf's fall, Legolas never worried about such things. Those 'things' are still foreign to the immortal Elf.

The Elf's questioning of life and purpose, nowadays, mostly revolved around his war against the Gifted. It was a troublesome thought, but the faces in the pool of blood forced him to ponder about it. It didn't take long for him to realize his situation: he was fighting in a war of Men, he did not belong in it, and he had no right to decide which side was the good and the other evil.

Although he knew all of those things, Legolas's solution was to continue fighting. Somewhere deep in his mind, something fully convinced him that he had to keep fighting. He had to continue fighting because something about this war was dreadfully amiss. This was different from the wars of Men during the Fourth and Fifth Ages of Middle-earth era. Something was so wrong about it all.

What was wrong with this war? What was he fighting for? Why him?

Legolas prayed to Ilúvatar and the Valar every night that he may find out someday...the reason for it all.

****

.

As he lay upon the sofa, trying to rid his mind of the dead faces, he shifted until he was facing the ceiling. The beige colored ceiling spanned infinitely over Legolas's eyes. He felt unfocused as he just lay upon the couch, feeling sleep take over him slowly. The Elf could see the plane of beige morph into green, then blue. It suddenly spiked out towards him like billions of needles, turning white and silver at the pinnacles. When the sharp needles died down into a white haze, Legolas held his breath. The haze cleared away like fog on a cloudy, cool day. He began to see a light shade of blue grow more vivid until it was clear that the vast length of blue was really the ocean. The crests glittered like tiny crystals, as if the ocean was bringing up the jewels to the sky as an offering.

Legolas was completely mesmerized by the unending cycle of the rise and fall of blue crests. His eyes followed the fluid motions until the water began moving turbulently. The sky darkened and the water fought with the wind. Everything became dark and murky until a spec of light began growing amidst the raging torrent. It grew and grew until Legolas saw a white boat within the sphere of light, beautiful yet sturdy. The graceful white boat sailed gently along a violent body of water.

It was like the first night out in the ocean when Legolas left Valinor. It was as if Ulmo was guarding this magnificent boat, just as the Lord of Waters protected him.

As Legolas watched the boat bob along gently in amidst the storm, his ears caught a very soft whisper. It said:

In two nights, one day,

Memories shall come alive

Upon falling of the golden ray.

Greet the light, sail fast,

Pray for aid unforeseen,

For it waits in the shadow vast.

Just as the last word faded into the sound of the waves crashing, the grey sky and the water started morphing into modest, muted beige. The Elf was gazing once again at the ceiling of his home, silently mouthing the words he just heard. No dream came to Legolas since his departure from Valinor. This experience revived an old part of him that had been in sleep for a long time - both propitious and ominous.

It only took a moment for the Elf to decide that he needed some fresh air in order to think properly about the message of the dream. Something made him want to be out in the sunlight, no matter who may see or recognize his face. Legolas raised himself up and tied a green and black bandana around his head, making sure it covered the upper half of his ears. He topped it all off with a black sunglasses over his shining blue eyes.

Wondering how long it would take him to think things out, the Elf exited the old structure and into the light of day. He held his hand over his eyes as he blinked a little. Rays of sunshine touched his tired and night-accustomed eyes through the space between his eyes and the sunglasses. It was a wonderful feeling to feel it upon his face again. Still, it was different from how it used to be. It used to be warmer and comforting. Now, pollution made it feel broken and artificial. Gods, how he missed daylight.

****

.

Legolas tried to enjoy his first daytime outing since decades. He was pretty sure the last time he was out basking in sunshine was the time he fought some powerful Gifted in a remote area near Dublin.

That fight lasted all night long, although he was in their hideout the most of the time. He had eliminated the lesser Gifted, but the last few made it out of the cellar. Wind-cut spells made dozens of cuts and scrapes on his clothes and flesh before he was down to one live Gifted. He struggled to cut the last and more powerful Gifted's spinal cord before the bastard could cast a temporary-paralysis spell on him. After being slammed onto the rough gravel path several times and crawling out of the rubble of brick and heavy stones, Legolas managed to do his job.

As soon as he did what he had to do, he dropped onto the ground. Looking up at the sky full of morning sunshine, Legolas lay breathless for a moment. As he sprawled in the still young sunlight, a cluster of grey clouds hid the sun. Even that bright moment had lasted only a few seconds. The Elf lay there in the grass until rain soaked him through and through. It washed away the blood and grime on his face, but not the heavy feeling in his heart. Although he longed for light, he was glad to have the clouds to keep him in dark obscurity.

As he remembered that event, Legolas had walked dozens of blocks aimlessly, gliding and weaving through the throng of Monday morning crowd. His mind now bent over a foreboding matter of the vision. Searching through all sorts of memories, all from millenniums past, Legolas tried to recognize the boat. It somewhat resembled the boats he had seen in Lothlórien and Valinor. A skeptical feeling made him itch all over.

At one point, he entered Central Park and sat on a bench. His elbows met his knees as his hands were clasped lightly. Through his darkly tinted glasses, the Elf watched the clouds sail by in a blue sky. Legolas also watched children chase after the squirrels and the old folks feed the pigeons.

That vision of his was certainly a strange one. Legolas spent a several hours sitting and walking around the park, trying to think of the ultimate point of the dream. He knew that something was sailing out of Valinor, but still in the dark as to whom was sailing for what reason. Something had to be terribly out of order for someone to leave Valinor...unless that sailor had the same feeling Legolas had thousands of years ago. Perhaps he would be able to solve his query after speaking with the inbound traveler.

One thing was for sure. The Valar had to know that Legolas now resided in New York, so Ulmo would guide the boat towards that state tomorrow night. That didn't leave him much time to prepare. Moreover, he did not know how he would be able to sneak the Elf into the country without encountering some type of law enforcement and customs agencies. What would he do with the boat? How would he sneak the Elf in? This was beginning to give Legolas a big headache.

' In two nights, one day, memories shall come alive upon falling of the golden ray. Greet the light, sail fast, pray for aid unforeseen, for it waits in the shadow vast,' murmured Legolas as he kicked a small pebble that lay before his feet. It skipped and skipped until it rammed itself into another pair of shoes. Legolas took no notice as he thought of those two riddling sentences, wondering what the 'memories' and 'aid unforeseen' meant. The owner of the shoes looked down and saw a rather large pebble by his left foot.

" Hey, you. Watch where you kick things, will ya?"

Legolas snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the person who spoke. He saw a tall man with sandy brown hair, somewhat rough looking. A flash went through his head as he said, "sorry." Feeling a sudden urge to disappear, if he could, Legolas rushed by. Even though he was in a cautious mode, he took the time to glance quickly to his left. A short man wearing a baseball hat and heavy sunglasses looked back at the Elf. This day was just getting better by the moment...in a cynical way.

" Hey, that guy's looking at me all weird!" Complained the strange man.

Legolas could tell that the short man was panicking. Quickening his pace, the Elf tried to shake off any suspicions. Still, wearing all that dark-colored clothes, looking like a high school or college student, walking around on Monday morning and all didn't help him one bit.

" Calm down," said the sandy haired man. Legolas sighed softly as he continued on. He had done it. He passed by cops who were questioning an anonymous informer...without looking like a hit man sent to kill the informer. The poor Elf had a similar experience back in the seventies.

" You! Stop!"

Without a thought, Legolas turned his head. Someone pushed the sandy haired man aside, rising from the bench beside the nervous informer. Legolas thought he might had to make a run for it before he took a careful look at the other cop's face.

" You..." whispered Legolas as he completely stopped walking. This wasn't possible. This just had to happen on this very day!

" Um, Greg, you take care of this...I have to take care of something right now."

Greg, none other than Greg Todd of NYPD, grabbed his partner's arm as she began to walk away. He said nervously, " you know I'm not good at talking! You talk; I bust heads wide open...you know!"

His partner, Charlotte Norwood, shook off his hand and patted his shoulder.

" Say whatever you want, just don't hit the man."

Shocked and gaping, Greg watched Charlotte walk away from a precious informer and to a suspicious stranger. He clenched his jaw tightly as he looked at the man with the bandana walking away.

" Hey, you want the information or not?" Asked the informer. Greg told him to shut up while he looked at Charlotte running to catch up to that man walking away.

Charlotte, trying to settle the thousands of questions swimming in her head, caught up to the Elf. As she slowed to a halt, she grabbed his arm and turned him around forcefully. Legolas sighed softly as he looked down at her. She could see his brilliant blue eyes through the sunglasses. They stood still in silence, Charlotte still holding onto his upper arm. Pigeons cooed and cars rushed by as the two said nothing for a moment. Charlotte slowly opened her mouth to speak.

****

.......

A/N: Corny clue, right? I'm not good with poetry. Anyhow... Are you excited? ...Someone's leaving Valinor's safe borders to come to Legolas... You are safe in presuming that something's VERY wrong in Earth...

Please Review!


	12. Useful Drunkard

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (coming soon?), and quite a bit of violence.

--By the twelfth chapter, I'm sure you know what bolds and italics are...--

A/N: Thanks to everyone who helped me with the rating issue! You took a load off my shoulders!

Kelsey: Yes, Leggy will get a sidekick! Um...I would say Earth as we know it would only be known as Arda amongst those who lived in the Middle-earth era. Gargoyle? Oh, that show. I remember it from several years ago... Now that you mention it, this is kind of similar. But I can honestly say that it had no influence in this fic...sounds like an excuse, I know, but it's true.

DJ: Aw! You're making me blush! As to the ending...I'm not sure _exactly_ how this is going to end (pending on how things unfold), so I wouldn't place bets just yet.

****

.......

Charlotte slowly opened her mouth to speak. Legolas already knew what she would say.

" Lewis Gratian...who are you?"

Out of all times, Legolas chose then to chuckle. Her hand slid off his arm as his chuckle died down.

" Who are you really?" Asked Charlotte, speaking louder than Legolas would have liked.

Legolas touched one of her hands that hung by her side, but just with his fingertips. All of her anxiety and frustration dissolved away with that strange touch of his. It was as if he had a hand of a healer, but he sure wasn't helping her investigate his identity.

" Relax."

Charlotte glared at him with a curious look. " What?" She asked.

He tried to leave, but she held onto his arm again even harder. He didn't want to be here, but she was making his 'inexistence' hard to maintain.

" This is a wonderful park. Relax."

Showing a very faint smile, he put his hand over hers. Under his own flesh, he could feel her muscles relax enough to let go of his arm.

" You haven't answered my question," she muttered. She was getting sick of his enigmatic existence itself.

" I don't have to."

" I can't let you go like this. All you say, do, and are have given me every reason to suspect you as a criminal. Even if I don't know why you're always on the run, I can arrest you for breaking and entering plus assault. Give me your real name, and if you check out all right, I'll let you go."

There was a pinch of desperation and frustration in her tired voice. Legolas understood her feelings, being an officer of the law and all, but he couldn't afford to reveal anything that might compromise his 'inexistence' - not even his primary alias, Lee Evergreen. Suddenly, just as he began drawing out a plan of evasion, the secret informer screamed. Charlotte quickly turned around and saw that Greg was on the verge of punching the informer in the face. She turned back momentarily, ignoring the informer's plea for her to help him, just to watch Legolas walk away leisurely.

" Wait! Lewis!"

Calling Legolas by the fake name he gave her, she looked back and forth from Legolas to Greg. Knowing that Greg would be suspended if he used violence on another informer, and also that she probably would never figure out who 'Lewis' really is if she let him go, Charlotte wished that she could just trust to hope that she would find Lewis again. After pulling back Greg from the informer's throat, she turned around. Although it had been only three seconds, he vanished from an empty, straight path...as if into thin air.

' Lewis Gratian...who are you?'

****

.

Legolas skipped lunch and walked around a few more blocks, trying to think of a way to sneak the Elf in. Coming through sea made things more difficult for Legolas, but how else could the Elf travel? Unlike the mortals' science fiction, traveling through portals and wormholes were as ridiculous as the idea of aliens from outer space. Sometimes he wanted to prove all the things right or wrong, just to settle his outraged mind. Men sure had ways of distorting the existence and acts of the Gifted into preposterous tales of utter fantasy.

It was nearing three o'clock, the time Emily would get out of school.

Emily often pleaded and begged for him to come and walk her home, but he always refused. After a while, she learned to let go of her childish hopes. Being around Legolas helped her learn to forget about petty revenges of teenagers and think more about things that matter most. He helped her learn all the things her parents failed to teach. It made Emily admire him and cherish his acquaintance even more.

It was too bad the foundation of their relationship was a lie. Legolas never wanted to become too close to any mortal, but he was tired of taking up the road every time someone found him pleasant to be around. In a sense, Emily was lucky to find him at the right time. Had she found him a little earlier, he might have disappeared again. If she found him a little later, someone else may have been in her place.

' I can't do this alone without making a headline in the newspaper.'

Legolas looked up at the sky as he stood in the shadow of an alley. The narrow strip of sky looked like a wide screen TV as the Elf watched the clouds sail by. Immersed in a quirky game mortals played, he was trying to imagine what the clouds resembled. So far he had witnessed sleeping bears, fish, flowers, and ice cream cones pass by his eyes. It was a strange way to pass time, but it was better than looking at the graffiti on the wall ahead of him.

When he knew that it was half past three, he pushed himself off of the wall with his hands still in the pockets. Legolas walked out of the alley and into the streets, looking towards his left. He could see Emily with her headphone set on, walking alone in the empty sidewalk. No other kinds lived around here, which was a benefit for Legolas. He certainly didn't want kids snooping around his home.

Few moments passed by before Emily looked up from the ground. She smiled and began walking quickly, taking off her headphone set.

" Lee! What're you doing up during daylight? Aren't you sleepy?"

He shook his head side to side. The only times he felt sleepy were when he had visionary dreams. Excessive amounts of Dorwinion wines were exceptions, of course. Basically, this morning was the first time he felt sleepy for thousands of years.

" Let's go in. I'll make some sandwiches."

Entering the dark alley that Legolas once stood in, the two entered the living quarter behind the abandoned shop. Emily dropped her backpack beside the door and rushed to the kitchen. She knew he usually spent Monday morning and early afternoon inside the house or out in some place far away from here. His presence this early made her feel excited for some reason. Something must have gone right for things to be working towards her favor. Always she wanted to spend more and more time with him. The near seven hours spent in school and the eighth hour spent walking to and fro were complete waste in her mind. She only endured them because he valued education so much.

' What would I do without you, Lee,' thought Emily as she looked out the kitchen door and into the living room. What would she do...if he disappeared as suddenly as he appeared?

Legolas was sitting in the rocking chair again, head leaning back. He was looking up at the beige ceiling that once was a sea of water and crystals. Without even looking at her, he knew what Emily was thinking about right this moment.

Emily chose to live a demure life and avoid whatever trouble may cross her path. She saw other children with normal families and envied them. The more and more she saw happy children; the more she pictured herself as a powerless damsel in distress. She thought it more true when Lee entered her life. He looked and acted the part of a knight in shining armor, there to save her from the miserable life and start a new, happy future together. To her, it didn't matter if he didn't have a real job or a nice house. Emily was just glad to have someone who protected her.

In reality, Emily wasn't looking for a hero to come save her.

' I'm a reason for her to avoid contact with human society,' thought Legolas.

Ever since she met him, her already small number of friends dwindled slowly. She spent more time at his house than with her peer. All he needed to do was to find her a friend who would see beyond her looks and family. That someone would open up her eyes and show her that there are people in this world who care. If he could accomplish that goal, she would enter society once again as a rehabilitated and complete human being.

One thing was for sure - he had to accomplish it as soon as possible, and not just for her sake.

****

.

About six hours passed and it was now half past nine. Yellow streetlights made the horizon appear like a band of tarnished copper. Legolas locked the door as Emily slung on her backpack, gazing at Legolas. His hair seemed to glow like silver when contrasted to the darkness of the black duster and the shadow. Whenever she looked at his hair, she wanted to run her hands through it.

When the two of them came within two dozen yard of the gate, Legolas stopped. Emily looked up at his face, then up the stairs to the gate. The old, rickety door was barely open with a head peeking out from the crevice. The man was in his late forties, ridden with grey hair, grimy skin, and yellow teeth. Legolas didn't need any word or anyone to tell him to that man was.

" Em! Who's that? A cop? You brought a cop on me?"

Legolas stayed in the dark, not going any closer. The streetlight was too close.

" No, he's not a cop!"

Emily's father pointed a finger at Legolas, but the rest were holding onto a beer bottle.

' Most likely his fourth bottle,' thought Legolas. He could smell the man's alcoholic breath from where he stood.

" What is he, your boyfriend?" Shouted the drunkard.

Emily blushed, then rushed up the stairs to push her father into the building. She mouthed a goodbye to Legolas and closed the door, but the Elf could hear the father slurring crude comments.

" You hanging out with boys instead of making money?"

Emily scoffed in contempt.

" Why? So you can spend everything yourself?"

The man was too drunk to slap her on the face, for which Legolas was thankful of. He held special dislike for men like Emily's father. They were born perfectly normal with no physical deformation. They had all the opportunities as the citizens of one of the great countries, unlike those of third worlds. With all those good living conditions, they waste their whole life doing useless things like gambling and watching TV all day long. They never made the effort to rehabilitate or get a job, but just keep on getting drunker by the hour. Although he disliked them, he pitied them. It was sad to see such potentials wasted due to the lack of will power and the desire to make something of themselves.

Before Legolas could hear no more of their 'colorful' conversation, he caught the last bit of what Emily's father said.

To Legolas, everything suddenly made sense. His previous queries dissolved into the dark of night as he quickened his pace towards the subway station. Drunkards were not completely useless after all.

****

.......

A/N: I know, I know, a cliffhanger. But if I didn't do it here, this chapter would be just plain awkward. Be patient, the 'guest' will arrive soon!

Please Review!


	13. I Need Your Help

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (coming soon?), and quite a bit of violence.

--I'm sure you know what bolds and italics are...--

****

.......

Legolas barely contained himself as he exited the subway station. His strides were quick yet short, showing more haste than he usually did. When he was past all other people and security guards, out of the station and into the city, he merged into the dark of night. It was near eleven o'clock and he was in haste. If he was to go ahead with his risky plan, time was of the essence.

As soon as he found the nearest dark alley, he entered. The Elf climbed up the side of the building, using the ladders, drainpipes, and bare hands. When he reached the top, he began to run like hell across the roof. Every time he reached an alley, he jumped with all his might. After doing this about a dozen times, he reached one that seemed quite far and high.

' Not now!'

He stepped back a little, then ran as fast as his legs would carry him. Just over the edge of the edifice, he hurled himself over. Soaring for few seconds, he reached for the other side with his arms. One hand missed the ledge, but the other made it. Still, it seemed that fate was against his liking. Legolas's fingers began sliding on the bit of dust and dirt on the surface, sliding closer towards the edge. It was ten floors up...and he wasn't prepared to fall yet!

' Valar, don't let me fall!'

Risking time and his life, Legolas swung his legs a little, then swung them hard the second time. As his legs swung beyond the point of being parallel to the flat roof, he flipped his hand so that his palm was in the place where his fingertips were. He used the upward momentum to swing completely over to the roof.

Legolas lay on his back for a second, safe on the rooftop.

' I can't waste a second!'

Getting back up on his feet, the Elf continued his race across the roofs of New York City.

****

.

After several light metal-scraping sounds, the key to the door turned with a click. Almost noiselessly, the wooden door swung open upon the somewhat rusty hinges. A coat flew and landed on a chair back. A pistol few onto a sofa. Shoes flew across the room. One rolled a little until it hit something solid. It didn't make a hollow sound, as it would've against a wall, but a muffled one.

A pair of blue eyes suddenly became visible in the darkness within the room. They glistened so brightly that it seemed surreal.

" You...!"

Legolas stepped forward and into the stream of light filtering through the half-closed blinds. He still had on his sunglasses and bandana. Even his hands were in his pockets.

" Charlotte."

Without a thought, she fell onto her knees, then sat down completely dumbfounded. Forgetting the pain in her knees, she stared at him. Was she dreaming? Or was she hallucinating? That had to be it. There was no other way that the evasive man would be standing in her apartment right now after escaping earlier.

" I need your help," he said.

Charlotte laughed softly, then fell onto her back and stretched out her legs. Facing the dark ceiling of her apartment, she laughed.

" You're not here...I'm hallucinating."

It was then that Legolas snapped out of his thoughtless, desperate state of mind. He could smell the numerous shots of hard liquor from her breath. Suddenly, he felt even more desperate and forlorn. Legolas took off his sunglasses and placed them in his pockets, then brushed his hand over his face in frustration. With so much hopelessness in his heart, he gazed at the drunken detective sprawled on the hardwood floor. Charlotte was laughing softly in almost a hysteric tone. He could tell she was quite drunk and quite frustrated at him.

" Go away, I want to sleep."

Charlotte closed her eyes, still laughing to herself. Legolas walked up to her and looked down at her face. Her skin was flushed.

" You're not hallucinating. I really need your help."

" No, you don't. You're here to bother the hell out of me. Here one moment, gone the next...just leave me alone."

Standing still, clueless as to what to do next, Legolas looked down at her. Dark circles surrounded her eyes.

' How am I supposed to make her understand?'

He sat down beside her and kept staring at her red face. She wasn't asleep, but was breathing quite heavily. Several minutes passed by without a movement from either of them. Nothing was changed in the entire room until Charlotte shivered. The false warmth of alcohol had now worn off and now she was shivering on the cold wooden floor.

Sighing, Legolas took off his leather duster and laid it over her. Time was running out. Although he had a plan already laid out, it would take time for what he prepared to tell her.

' Of all days, why did you choose tonight to get drunk? I really need your help...'

After a moment of utter silence, he remembered a rudimentary remedy for intoxication. It was a trick he picked up during his stay in Asia. Mixing honey with water, he made Charlotte drink it all. After a few moments, she opened her eyes.

" I'm still drunk," she said, " and you're still here."

She suddenly looked into his blue eyes. The orbs of peculiar blue held dozens of brilliant silver stars within them. Without his sunglasses, she could see far beyond the physical appearance of his eyes. Something was in them. Something unexplainable...and beautiful.

" I can see all of your face," she exclaimed softly.

Legolas made a faint smile then helped her sit up. Pulling his coat closer about her neck, he supported her back from collapsing back onto the floor. When he thought she was fine enough to sit up on her own, he let go of her back. For a few seconds, she sat perfectly still. Next, she swayed and began falling to her side, away from him. He reached over to catch her, placing his hands under her head and shoulder. Legolas set her up straight, but she fell again. This time, her head landed on his shoulder.

" You feel pretty real."

" I am real."

He knew that he had to wait until she was less intoxicated, so he let Charlotte rest her head on his shoulder. His arms resting on his knees, Legolas hoped that she would have her hangover soon and wake up already. The sooner she would come out of the influence, the sooner he could specifically ask her for help.

It was 10:30 p.m. when he arrived at Charlotte's apartment, and 11:00 p.m. when she entered through the door. Now, the time being midnight, Charlotte woke up from her sleep. Without realizing that Legolas was in her apartment, not to mention that she was resting on his shoulder, she bolted upright and ran for the bathroom.

When Legolas leaned against the bathroom doorframe, he saw Charlotte hugging the toilet and puking her guts out. It didn't disgust him one bit to hear and witness the continuous retching, but it did made him shift a little. He hadn't seen a 'woman' vomit like that since...since forever. Not even during the days of Prohibition had he seen such violent reaction to the aftereffects of serious alcoholic binges. Being used to killing, unfortunately, blood seemed better than vomit at the moment.

" Do you need water to rinse your mouth?"

Charlotte stopped vomiting. Not turning her face towards him, she grabbed a towel and wiped her mouth. Covering the lower half of her face, she finally looked up at him.

" No, you're not drunk still. I'm really here," said Legolas. He knew she wasn't happy at all to see him. After their encounters and strange good-byes without the actual farewells, who would be?

" Why are you here?"

She gargled and rinsed her mouth, then splashed cold water on her damp face.

" I need your help."

Without a word, she walked past him and into the dark, unlit hallway. She stood there for a while.

" Why?"

" Because you're the only one who can help me."

Legolas became uneasy when there was no response from her. Out of the blue, she spun around and slapped his face. He stood still without a word.

" You...you're stupid, do you know that?"

She threw the towel onto the floor.

" You need help so badly that you break into my apartment again, but you don't have the guts to tell me your real name?"

Legolas said, " I couldn't before, and I still can't if you won't trust me. I am here to tell you the truth so you may trust me enough to help."

Charlotte didn't say anything when he gazed right into her eyes.

" Will you listen to the truth I will soon tell you? If you don't believe what I say by sunset, or choose not to help me, I will have to kill you."

" Don't _ever_ threaten a cop."

When she turned around so she could get her gun, he grabbed her left wrist and squeezed it tight. It felt as if her bones would crack under the pressure.

" I'm serious. I'm going to tell you my secret that I haven't told anyone on this Earth. I am willing to risk that exposure, so shouldn't you listen to what I have to say?"

She became silent and ceased all movements.

" Don't say anything until I'm done."

Feeling her unexpressed consent, Legolas sighed as he prepared to begin something that hurt him just to think about it. Still, he went on with it.

" Have you ever read The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien?"

Charlotte nodded.

" I am Legolas Greenleaf."

He took off his bandana and showed her his pointed ears. Exposed to a human being of Earth for the first time, including the villagers of that Mediterranean village thousands of years ago, the ears made Charlotte swallow hard.

" I'm not a crazy lunatic who wants to be an Elf from a popular tale. I haven't had plastic surgery to make my ears look this way. I _am_ an Elf. I _am_ Legolas Greenleaf."

Glad that she hadn't fainted yet, he slightly loosened his grip on her wrist.

" I lived through so many years, through the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Ages of Middle-earth. When the Valar called all the Elves into Valinor, the Fifth Age ended. Every other living creature of Middle-earth was swallowed into the ocean at the will of Ilúvatar. When land formed once again upon the blue water, it became the Earth we now know.

" Every human that ever lived during the Earth era was reincarnations of the Men that lived during the Middle-earth era. You are also a reincarnated human. I don't know who you were in your former life, but you were once a living being of my home world.

" After living thousands of years in Valinor after my friend Aragorn's death, I felt a sudden urge to explore the newly formed world. I was given an extraordinary grace to become an exception to the decree of the Valar that all Elves were to stay within Valinor. Ulmo, the Lord of Waters carried my boat to the ancient civilization in the Mediterranean where I began my journey throughout the world.

" Now, after living through the reincarnated Men's history from its birth, I have had a vision that I had not since my stay in Valinor. Lord Ulmo is guiding another vessel from Valinor into our world. The passenger within that vessel must have a great errand to complete in order to leave the sacred land of the Gods. I need you to help me sneak the Elf through customs and port officials. ...Will you help me?"

Charlotte thought her head swirled as she tried to process all of the information. Legolas felt all of his muscles tense up as he stood holding her wrist. His fingers twitched a little as he felt the whole world slow down like the movies. What if she said no? He would have to kill her...and do the most desperate thing to meet the Elf. There was no way that such desperate measure could lead to a good consequence.

" Please say yes," Legolas muttered, now grabbing her other wrist. The Elf was reaching a point of hysterics.

" ...You actually expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe something so ridiculous and play along?" Charlotte asked. How else could she react? Elves didn't exist. The Lord of the Rings was a work of fiction. Legolas Greenleaf was nonexistent.

" How can I make you believe me? Do you want me to show you the knives that I used during the Quest?"

The half-hysterical Elf pulled out his White Knives and placed them in her hands.

" Do you want to see the brooch that the Fellowship received from the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien?"

He took out a silver and green brooch from under his shirt, hanging by a long silver chain.

" Do you want me to speak Elvish? Westron? I can tell you everything that ever happened. I can..."

Legolas's voice died away. His tense voice and actions only made him more pathetic. He could tell she wasn't buying any of his words. Charlotte wasn't angry or amused - that made him feel worse.

" What can I do to make you believe me?" He whispered.

She gave the knives back to Legolas, then ran her hands through her hair. Everything he said were plain ridiculous. His knives and brooch could be anything he picked up at a flea market. His Elvish or Westron could've been learned off the Internet. He had no substantial proof of his self-proclaimed identity as Legolas Greenleaf.

" Show me Valinor, then I will believe," said Charlotte.

Legolas was about to crack, but he contained himself.

" How do you explain the dinosaur fossils and space travel," she hissed, " there are so many scientific proofs that Earth is Earth. Earth is billions of years old. If what you said is true, then are you telling me that carbon dating and all that technology are false?"

" Yes."

Charlotte scoffed.

Legolas said, " Ilúvatar and the Valar has great powers. Eru has foreseen what you Men would be capable of. He knew what you would be able to do and what you cannot do. The dinosaur bones are just props. They are not even a million years old. There was no evolution from apes to humans. You may travel to the moon and send satellites to Mars, but he has confined you to the solar system in which you live. Space exploration first flourished quickly, but now progress has dramatically slowed down. It's because you can't go any farther beyond Uranus. Do you know why only Earth contains any living life form? The distance of the Earth to the Sun is just a convenient excuse. It's really because he only meant for the Firstborns and the Secondborns to walk the soils that the Valar created. Everything you can science and all that are just props. They're toys to amuse your natural curiosity and need for adventure."

He held his hands over her cheeks, but did not make contact.

" How do you explain the feeling you get when I get close to you? Or when I touch you? Everyone else feel it too. It's the gift of the Firstborn. You can call it charisma or an ethereal gift, but it is a trait that is inherent amongst all Elves."

Legolas's fingertips gently brushed along Charlotte's face, from forehead to cheeks to chin. Her eyes closed as she felt the relaxing fingers brushed over her skin. It was just like the time he took her pulse or grabbed her wrist.

" Tell me this isn't real. Tell me you don't feel this. If you can deceive me with those words, you're a good liar."

" I feel it," she whispered. She then opened her eyes and slapped away his hands. " But I don't believe it."

" Aren't you afraid of the fact that I will kill you if you don't believe or choose not to help me?" He asked. This was more difficult than he imagined.

" I don't know," she replied.

" Why do you refuse to believe?"

" Because you said only I could help you."

She had him there. He did say that and made a fool of himself during his first desperate attempt to convert her into a believer. It seemed that his desperate plan would never work out.

Frustrated and disappointed, Legolas leaned against the wall in the narrow hallway. Perhaps he could work his way around using psychology.

" Are you an honest policewoman?" He asked casually.

She glared at him. " What?"

" Let me rephrase that. Did you join the law enforcement for the gun and the uniform...or to serve and protect the innocent?"

" Neither."

" Why then?"

" I don't have to tell you shit."

She walked out of the dark hallway and opened her front door.

" Get out. If you don't want to go to jail, get out now and don't ever show your face again."

Legolas stood where he was.

" If you don't help me, billions of people will suffer. Millions will die and the rest will be oppressed. Isn't it your duty to serve and protect? Isn't it your duty to shield humanity from destroying itself?"

" Enough with the bullshit. I've heard enough about evolution, gods, and universe."

" But my explanation accounts for all the things you Men still haven't figured out."

" That's what superstitions and religions are for - to explain the unscientific and the irrational."

Legolas slowly made his way through the hallway. Charlotte saw his tall, dark figure emerge from the shadow.

" Do you have a religion that is of this Earth?" Legolas asked.

" No," she replied softly.

" Ilúvatar, the omniscient and omnipotent," the Elf whispered to himself, but just soft enough for her to barely hear him. Legolas undid the clasp of his necklace and held it in his hand. He spoke in all seriousness, " why do you suppose that is?"

He placed the brooch and the chain in her hand, then walked through the open door. Charlotte stood wordlessly, holding the necklace with one hand and the doorknob with the other. When she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, all sorts of confused emotions poured out. Without his soothing presence, the border that defined reality and fantasy began to deteriorate.

****

.......

A/N: Poor Leggy! It must be hard trying not to look like a madman while trying to explain that you're an Elf. I think if Elves were doctors, there would be no need for anesthesia during surgery. Don't you think that's how they'd be? Beautiful, intelligent, and so charismatic that they completely sooth your body and mind? Anyhow, be ready with signs to pick up the guest at the port in next chapter. :)

Please Review!


	14. Call of Humanity

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (coming soon?), and quite a bit of violence.

--I'm sure you know what bolds and italics are...--

A/N: Just in case you're wondering why there are people drinking alcoholic beverages quite frequently...it's just for the story's sake, just like Tolkien portrayed Hobbits as weed-loving folks. I don't promote the use of any alcohol, tobacco, or drugs. They're all bad!

Kelsey: Wonderful guesses and reasons as to the identity of the guest. As for the 'mistake,' it was on purpose. Legolas was playing a 'psychological warfare' on Charlotte. I was planning on explaining it, so be patient, please! :)

****

.......

That night, after waving Charlotte goodbye at the top of the stairs, Greg made his trip all the way down the stairs in silence. When he was all snug in his car, he started the engine and drove home.

Greg locked the door to his apartment, then threw his things somewhere in the living room. Although he only had one bottle of beer, he couldn't think straight at all. He almost tripped on an electric cord on his way to the refrigerator. Standing in front of the open refrigerator, he thought of how pathetic he was. Gregory Todd was a 34-year-old detective of the New York Police Department who makes decent living on a cop's salary. He also divorced after a ten-year marriage with no children, but finally freed of his conceited, controlling, and vain wife. It was a wonder that he lived so long with her for so long. Anybody who looked at them knew that neither loved each other.

Without eating or drinking anything, he closed the refrigerator door after a minute or so. It was empty, just like his life right now.

' I've got to stop thinking about that,' he thought.

Soaked and shivering from the cold water, Greg just stood in the shower. His whole life situation didn't go away, but worsened. He couldn't stop thinking about something as he felt the icy cold water trickle down his face.

' What was up with Char today?'

_Greg and Charlotte were at the station, getting their jackets so they could leave. Since the appearance and disappearance of that strange man Charlotte called Lewis, she hadn't spoken a word at all. Greg tried asking her about it, but she just ignored him as if she hadn't heard a word. At one point he got angry and yelled at her a little, but she still didn't budge._

" You still want a lift?" Greg asked. He had been giving her a lift home frequently during his marriage, but since the divorce he gave her a ride home every night.

Charlotte didn't say anything, but just nodded her head.

Halfway to her apartment, she suddenly spoke and it made Greg jump a little.

" Can we go get a drink?"

He thought it was harmless then. He never saw her drink, but a bottle of beer wouldn't do substantial harm...or so he thought.

They went to that English style pub for a drink. Thankfully, it wasn't a soccer night. Greg ordered two bottles of beer as they sat down at the end of the counter. He slowly sipped his drink as he watched Charlotte fool around with the water drops on the beer bottle.

" Are you gonna drink or what?" He asked impatiently. It wasn't like her to suggest drinking before him. He always drank and she always stayed sober. So far it was that way, but tonight, she_ was the one who suggested this._

" It's gonna get warm if you keep holding on to it like that. Warm beer sure as hell isn't good as a cold one."

All of a sudden, Charlotte put the bottle to her lips and chugged it down continuously. A few drops trickled down to her chin and down her neck. Greg watched them run down her skin. When they were nesting comfortably in the dimpled area near the collarbones, they sparkled like gemstones. As soon as she finished it off, she slammed the bottle to the wooden countertop. Greg thought for a second that it would smash into a hundred pieces.

" Vodka, please," she said to the barkeep. " Add a lemon if you have any...or not."

The barkeep shouted back, " lime okay?"

She nodded and waited for her drink. Greg only looked at her as she received her clear drink and began gulping that one down too. It was so strange of her to drink so much all of a sudden. Then again, the whole day was strange. First they were assigned to extract information from a secret informer, then this 'Lewis' guy appeared, and then Charlotte hadn't spoken a word since...until the pub thing. It was probably just his strange mind, but Greg began to suspect the 'Lewis' guy. He wasn't sure what he was suspicious of, but it just bothered the heck out of him.

" Why are you drinking tonight?"

She didn't say anything, but played with the glass of vodka with a wedge of lime on the rim.

" Anything to do with that 'Lewis' guy by any chance?"

Charlotte gulped the rest of the vodka down and sucked on the lime. Squinting and puckering a little, she dropped the green rind in the cup. Raising an index finger at the barkeep for one more vodka, she tapped the countertop with her fingernails.

" Who was he anyhow? A friend?"

He was beginning to get nervous as he drank his beer a little. He couldn't stop thinking about how Char's hand was on the guy's arm, then how 'Lewis' put his over her hand. From the way she wanted him to stay...

' ...That guy has to be someone close,' thought Greg. For no particular reason, he cracked his knuckles.

" Stop that. I hate it," said Charlotte. She received her second vodka and began drinking it down slowly.

" Is he your ex?"

Charlotte stopped drinking all of a sudden and put down her cup. She turned towards Greg to say something, but turned right back and finished her drink without stopping. Instead of sucking on the lime, she threw it at Greg. Luckily, since Charlotte was drunk, it just hit the side of his beer bottle and landed on the countertop.

" What was that for? Did I hit bull's-eye?" He asked. Suddenly, he wondered if he should've asked that out loud.

" Nah..."

Greg sighed. It wasn't so much that he was relieved of not being punched by Charlotte, but it was more like being relieved of...worries. For a moment, he thought Charlotte had an ex-boyfriend. If Lewis were her ex, he would be drinking more than a bottle of beer tonight. Still...who was he then?

" I think I'm drunk," murmured Charlotte. Her words were slightly slurred, but still understandable. Greg began to worry as he watched her order another vodka. She said her father was an alcoholic and that was why she never drank. One beer was okay for her every now and then, but she never had more than two bottles. Vodka...now that was too far.

" I don't think you should drink any more. Two's enough."

He tried to take the cup away from her, but she took it anyway. Halfway through her third, Charlotte began to sway as she sat on the high stool. She didn't fall without Greg having to support her. Unfortunately for Greg, she began muttering inaudible things. Greg tried to listen to what she was trying to say, but he couldn't make out a single word.

" Are you talking to yourself or me?" Greg asked.

She kept muttering silently, but the words were clear in her mind.

' Stop showing up and disappearing whenever you feel like it...I hate it. I don't need you_ to do it too. It's just what my father did...disappearing on me.'_

Barely done with her drink, she unhurriedly sucked on the lime wedge. Greg was wondering if he should take her home right now.

' I don't even know you and I'm not sure if I want to,' she thought.

" I think you had enough. Let's go, Char," said Greg. He paid the barkeep and got up from his seat. Charlotte kept looking ahead blankly with lime in her mouth, not even noticing that he was tapping on her shoulder. When he waved his hand in front of her face, she tried to get up. Swerving and muttering, the drunken detective slowly made her way across the pub. Few others looked at her as she waved her arms around in a rather pathetic attempt to keep her balance. Greg smiled at them, totally embarrassed, and ran up to support her. When he tried to put her arm around his neck, she pushed him away.

When they reached Greg's Mustang, Charlotte had a hard time trying to find the car door handle. Greg had to go around and help her in. After putting on the seatbelt around her, he stood there for a while. She was moaning and muttering as she waved her arm around a bit, not knowing where she was.

Greg stopped in front of Charlotte's apartment and sat still. Charlotte was half asleep, not moving at all. Five minutes he spent sitting in the car, looking at the drunken version of Char. It didn't make much difference to him. She was still Char.

" We're here," he whispered.

" Are you sure?" Charlotte asked. Greg froze in his seat. It was just like that Clive Edward stakeout. His eyes roamed all over her, then focused on her face. Abruptly, he felt the urge to grab her by the shoulders and kiss her - kiss her like there's no tomorrow. Twitching fingers began reaching for Char's shoulders. Greg wanted to pull back, but he couldn't.

' I can't do this,' he thought. His hands were on her shoulders. She only whined in complaint, but didn't have the focus to push him off. ' But she won't remember a thing tomorrow.'

He was so close to her lips, but he halted. It wasn't right. He couldn't do it. Greg let go of her and opened the car door.

" Let me help you out," he said. She refused, then got out on her own. Dismissing him with a drunken wave of her hand, she began stumbling up the long flights of stairs. Greg still sat in the driver's seat, holding onto the steering wheel with all his might. He had a perfect chance to do what he had been dreaming of for the last few months. It was a chance for him to live out his simple dream without suffering the consequences. Still, he couldn't force himself to do it. It wasn't right.

' I don't know whether I should pat or kick myself for not doing it,' thought Greg. He turned off the water, but still stood in the shower.

' What if that was my only chance?'

****

.

Charlotte was having a bad day.

Because of the information gathered from the secret informer, she and Greg had to stay in the station all day to search for files and reports. From morning until lunch break, she and Greg had been doing just that. Even after the lunch break, they continued. But what made her day bad was something completely different.

Holding the brooch and chain in her hand under the desk, Charlotte kept thinking crossly. What Legolas said made some sense, but how could such a bizarre story be historical? If Elves existed, where were the Dwarves and the Hobbits? Or worse, where were the Orcs and the Trolls? The fact of the matter was that he didn't explain enough to convince her. Anyone could've come up with that explanation after some serious brainstorming.

' I need to focus on this case!'

Charlotte thrust the brooch into her coat pocket, but pulled it out again after a few minutes. She had been doing this all day. Her mind was so focused on Legolas's claim and plea that she didn't notice that Greg had been staring at her quite frequently. It wasn't like him to stare unless the person was a criminal or a suspect. Even if she didn't notice, someone else did.

" Greg!" Someone shouted.

Greg looked behind him and found his friend behind him, holding a pile of paper in his arms.

" What is it, Alden?"

Alden, a man about Greg's age, put the papers down and tugged on his friend's shirt.

" I need to talk to you, man."

The two walked away to an empty interrogation room. Alden locked the door and clicked his tongue.

" You think people are blind or something?"

Greg raised his brow.

" At least half the department already made guesses that you have feelings for her, but if you keep staring at her like that the whole day, words are gonna spread. Keep working, or make a move."

Greg replied, " I don't, okay? She's my partner, and if she doesn't work all day, I get concerned."

" Then _tell_ her to snap out of it! Staring won't give her a clue!"

Alden ruffled Greg's semi-long hair and walked out of the room. Greg whispered "shit" as he followed suit. It only made him regret last night even more.

****

.

Charlotte was gazing out the window, holding the brooch tight. She could tell the sun would set in an hour or so from the warmth and color of the sunshine. After a bit of struggling, she managed to read a few files, but Greg did most of them. It was so close to sunset. The dilemma was really biting into her conscience now.

" Something on your mind, Char?" Asked Greg.

She shook her head sideways and looked back out the window. Even though the tall buildings and skyscrapers blocked her view of the sky, she could still see the light. Suddenly, there was a little fisticuff going on a few yards away from her desk. A maniac covered in blood was struggling against several cops trying to sedate him.

" Apocalypse shall come! There's nothing you pig cops can do about it! The blood of the ignorant shall turn the land and water red! Only the Chosen will survive and they shall rule the Earth! I shall ride atop the wave of annihilation with my brethren and watch you all die," he shouted.

A cop punched him, but the maniac kept talking.

" Go ahead! Kill me! My brethren shall revive me and I shall come back to take my revenge!"

Greg snickered and turned to Charlotte.

" Isn't that poor son of a bitch just like that Clive man? They're some delusional bastards."

Charlotte jumped up from her seat and grabbed her stuff. It was probably really late, but as the saying goes - better late than never.

" Where are you going, Char?"

Greg tried to stop her, still being on duty and all, but she just whispered something at his ear.

" I have to go somewhere right now. Urgent business. Cover for me, will you?"

With that, she ran off while putting on her coat. Greg stood dumbfounded as he watched her walk out the door. They still had several hours before their shift was over.

' You owe me one, Char...'

Charlotte ran out, but didn't know where to go. Still, she caught a cab. Without thinking, she automatically gave her address to the driver. As she watched the buildings slide by, she nervously waited.

When she arrived, she grabbed more bills than she needed and practically threw them at the driver. The tense detective shot up the stairs, going on and on towards her apartment. Just as she reached her floor, she could see a dark figure leaning against her door. A tall, dark figure.

" Legolas," Charlotte murmured, but he still heard her.

" You're late."

He began walking towards her, hands in his pockets. He was wearing a baseball cap this time with the usual sunglasses.

" I'll tell you the plan as we get there."

Before Legolas could walk past her, Charlotte grabbed his arm.

" Why did you choose me to help you?" She asked.

Legolas reminisced about what Emily's father said last night.

_" Remember that one New Year? That time I didn't come home for few days? I talked a cop into lettin' me go with a few lies. He busted me later that day - said he used me as bait. You can't trust no cop! Even if you're a good liar like me!"_

He said, " someone said that he used lies to prevent an arrest, but the same policeman later caught him. He said, ' you can't trust no cop, even if you're a good liar.' If he was arrested even with a good lie, I hoped you'd believe me if I told you the truth - even if it sounded absurd. You're an honest person who knows the truth when you hear one. It was a fatal risk, but that precarious gambit paid off - as you see."

He looked at her to prove his point. She let go of his arm.

" This doesn't mean you're off the hook."

Legolas smirked.

" I know."

****

.

As Charlotte and Legolas rode the subway, Legolas quietly whispered.

" Since the Elf is coming from sea, and we certainly can't go through like everyone else, we need a boat. We'll use your credit card - I hope you have one - to rent a boat. I've already found a place, so that's out of the way. As long as nobody sees me entering the boat at the dock, you'll have no problem going out and coming back in. Use your badge to ward off anyone if they try to come aboard and search."

Charlotte tried to protest, but he continued.

" I know it's an act of abuse of power, but do it. Say that you're in a hurry because there's a new case that requires your immediate attention. Say that if he or she hinders your path and something terrible happens as a result, you'll hold them responsible."

That shut her up. He continued.

" When we get the Elf aboard and land safely, he or she will need food and shelter. I know what you're thinking - the Elf should stay with me. However, I have a slight difficulty that prevents me from doing just that."

He showed a weak smile.

" Actually, it's a monstrous difficulty. It's impossible. That means he or she will have to stay with you. Is that all right?"

Charlotte tartly replied, " considering that you just implied there's no other way...yes, it's all right."

Legolas tried to continue, but she went on by saying, " still, how am I supposed to keep them secret in an apartment complex? What will they do to keep busy? How can I pay for the food and all? There are so many flaws to that plan!"

" I will explain them later. First, I must ask, can you sail a boat by yourself?"

" I sailed a little with Austin at a local lake few times."

" Good enough. Second, your credit card isn't expired, right?"

She nodded.

" Third, can you keep everything a secret? If you reveal this to anyone, you will endanger everyone's lives. Another apocalypse may come, or worse yet, mankind may kill each other until no one's left standing."

" Nobody will believe me even if I told the truth."

Both Legolas and Charlotte sat quietly for few moments. Hesitantly and sluggishly, Legolas asked, " do you believe it?"

" No."

He should've expected that, but he didn't. Somehow, he hoped that she would understand.

" Why are you here then?"

Charlotte thought for a while, trying to formulate a coherent answer. She put a hand on her cheek as if a tooth ached. Her face felt so cold.

" Your footsteps. I never heard them before, at least not distinctly, but last night...I heard them clearly until they died away. To me, they were like the plea of humanity asking me to save them. When I couldn't hear your footsteps anymore as I stood by the door, it was like the death of humanity...and I did nothing as I witnessed them die," she said with a poignant tone. " Could you live with that? If you were responsible for mankind's death?"

The Elf said nothing. There was nothing to say, at least to her. His deliberately audible footsteps had done their job - to do just what Charlotte stated. Sometimes, silence can do what countless words cannot. His dying footsteps succeeded where his desperate words failed.

" If you felt that way, why did you arrive late?" He asked. Legolas had accounted for several things - Charlotte arriving as he calculated, or not coming at all - but he didn't expect her to come so late. From his meticulous calculation of all possible situations and their consequences, Legolas could tell she really wasn't planning to come. Something changed her mind the last minute. After living amongst Men for so long, he knew exactly how they thought and behaved. That is, unless fate intervened unexpectedly.

" A maniac at the station said that, along with his brethren, he would kill the ignorant," she replied.

Legolas twitched. A Gifted.

Charlotte asked, " isn't it what would happen if I didn't come?"

" Perhaps."

****

.

Charlotte breathed in the cool air as the sun began to set. The silhouette of New York City skyline against the golden sunset was a thing of strange awe. It was marvelous, but it did not seem so beautiful to her. The cold, artificial monuments seemed like some teeth of a great monster. Meanwhile, Legolas was under deck, watching the radar screen. He could feel his heart beat irregularly from the excitement and fear within him. So many questions and problems were in his mind, driving him so close to the point of insanity. The prince managed to contain himself, but just barely.

As they sailed through the Hudson River and entered the Upper New York Bay, Charlotte gazed at the distant figure of Lady Liberty holding the torch up high. It was her first time seeing the statue, but she was more in awe to see the Atlantic Ocean far ahead.

Soon, the boat was far from land, bobbing as the waves passed by. The sun was almost gone, but the white boat was no where in sight. Charlotte began to curse herself for believing a madman like 'Legolas.' She left before her shift was over, wasted money on renting this boat, and moreover, wasted her time. Charlotte uttered, " I'm going to give it ten more minutes, and then we're out of here."

Legolas nodded. He was out on the deck, looking ahead with his elven eyes. There was nothing. The dying sunlight was turning orange, but the elven boat was still no where to be found.

' Upon falling of the golden ray,' thought Legolas.

Charlotte sat down on a chair and pulled her coat collar closer about her neck. It was quite chilly out here. About five minutes passed without a word, but the soothing sound of the ocean filled the void. Suddenly, the Elf beckoned to her. " Bring a binocular, Miss Norwood," Legolas added. He didn't have much excitement in his voice, but something was there. Charlotte looked towards the direction Legolas was pointing. There was a faint light in a darkening horizon, rocking gently with the rising crests.

" It could be a fishing boat," she protested.

Legolas motioned for her to keep looking. The tiny speck of light became a faint orb of light. Charlotte gaped in astonishment as she watched a white boat materialize from within the orb of light. It kept growing bigger until she didn't need a binocular anymore. She could see it with her own eyes. A white boat was within an orb of light, yet it had no lanterns, light bulbs, or candles. It was...incredible.

" Do you believe now?" Asked Legolas. The white boat was now right next to hers. She could see clearly. She could see the boat and everything in it.

" Miss Norwood?" Legolas called to her, but she didn't respond. This had to be a trick. This couldn't be real. Where was the light coming from? How could a boat without sails or oars maneuver so perfectly?

Legolas, on the other hand, helped transfer everything from the elven boat into his. When all of that was done, the white boat departed on its own. Frozen stiff, Charlotte watched it disappear into the dark of night. She wished it was the cold night wind that froze her, but she knew it wasn't. Everything going on right now was all so surreal. The mortal woman wished she were dreaming. She wanted to wake up and find that this was all a rare, once-in-a-life-time dream. This couldn't be real, could it?

Legolas solemnly said, " Miss Charlotte Norwood, I would like you to meet..."

****

.......

A/N: Well, you now know one of the reasons for the romance genre and warning for light make-out scenes. Sorry, but I'll have to delay revealing the guest's identity until next chapter. I didn't know this chapter would be sooo long. I did say that the guest would _come_, but I didn't say I'd _reveal_ _whom_, did I? Mwahahaha...ha...ha... Sorry. Really sorry. Even I feel mad at myself for cutting it off right there, but you know introductions take a while. I'll make it up with the next chapter, okay? Cool. A review or two would be nice...or is that too much to hope for?

Please Review!


	15. Reunion

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (coming soon?), and quite a bit of violence.

--I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are...--

--NEW!!! **::** Words in between two bolded colons**::** are in Elvish(Sindarin)--

A/N: HOLEY BOROMIR! 10 reviews for one chapter! That's the most I've ever had. Much thanks to everyone who reviewed the story thus far! Keep the sweet reviews coming!

Also, I didn't know that last line in Ch.14 would have such a great impact (the more dramatic the cliffhanger is, the more reviews it produces? Or not...)! I blame it all on my Puck-ish muse. To make up for it, I worked extra hard to update a few days sooner (and I had a small writer's block in the middle of it too)...and the introduction is right at the beginning of the chapter! Sweet, eh?

Now enjoy the fifteenth chapter of The Bluest Eyes...

****

.......

The mortal woman wished she were dreaming. She wanted to wake up and find that this was all a rare, once-in-a-life-time dream. This couldn't be real, could it?

Legolas solemnly said, " Miss Charlotte Norwood, I would like you to meet Haldir, the March Warden of the Lothlórien Elves..."

The blond Elf bowed and said something in Elvish, but she couldn't understand it.

" ...Also, Elrohir and Elladan, the sons of Lord Elrond of Imladris."

Two identical Elves bowed and said something that sounded similar to what the first Elf said. Charlotte felt so bewildered. She finally forced herself to believe that Elves were real, and now faced a tremendous culture shock. It seemed absolutely ridiculous that she was supposed to be their caretaker until Legolas said otherwise. The poor detective never even babysat a little human child, let alone three fully-grown adult Elves she couldn't communicate with. Charlotte murmured, " um...nice to meet you."

Legolas felt time fleeting fast.

**::** For our safety's sake, please help me carry these things under deck. **::**

The four Elves grabbed the things from the elven boat and began transporting them under deck. As Legolas passed her by, he told her to start sailing back to shore. Charlotte nodded and started for land, wondering how she'd get them to her apartment. This was when she wished she had her own car. It was bad enough to bum rides so often from Greg anyhow.

' What have I gotten myself into?'

****

.

In the dark of night, Legolas and Charlotte managed to get the 'illegal aliens' out of the boat without being seen. However, Charlotte wondered how they could move the five...people...and their belongings without becoming outlandishly conspicuous. Moreover, it was the three Elves' ears and clothes that posed the biggest problem.

" What are you planning to do now?" She asked.

Legolas grinned. His blue eyes twinkled in the darkness.

" Don't worry."

The Prince of Eryn Lasgalen instructed the three Elves and the detective to stay put with their belongings in a dark alley between the dock warehouses.

**::** I am sorry, my friends, but I must be off for a few moments. Please, stay here,**:: **said Legolas.

**::** We understand, Legolas,**::** Haldir replied on behalf of the newcomers.

Legolas bowed, then turned to Charlotte, holding out a hand palm-up.

" I need some cash for disguises."

She whipped out a few bills from her wallet and lightly scorned him.

" Will the gods reimburse every penny you're spending out of my expense? This is all coming out of a cop's salary, you know," she muttered.

" I am sure you will be repaid in some form, but do not ask what and when. The gods can be mysterious in their ways."

With that, the prince left the four of them standing behind old crates and boxes. Charlotte tried to restrain herself from fidgeting, but she ended up tapping her foot for no apparent reason. When she realized that the Elves were staring at her, it came to a silent halt. It was just too awkward to be standing next to mythical beings, not knowing what they thought of her. They were all nice, she was sure, but who knows how they will react to meeting a being of Earth? From what she remembered, the last time reading The Lord of the Rings being at least a decade ago, they probably weren't used to seeing women wearing pants and roaming around by themselves. She wondered what their reaction would be when they found out that she was a policewoman.

' This is like being a foreigner in a backward nation,' deemed Charlotte, ' except this is _my_ country.'

Her life seemed to be going downhill.

Several minutes passed before Legolas returned with several bags filled with jeans, shirts, sweatshirts, and assortments of hats and bandanas. He was gracious enough to give Charlotte the bill and the changes, or so she joked to herself.

**::** I will lead you to a place where you must change into these robes. With this, you will be able to go to your lodging without trouble,**::** stated Legolas.

The other three nodded and followed him while Charlotte stayed behind to watch over their belongings. She felt like a stranger all of a sudden, knowing that she had never done anything like this before. Now that this all happened, she wasn't sure if she could ever be the same. Being in a tight situation like this made her realize that no matter what she did, she would be damned. If she so itched to tell the truth and did so, nobody would believe her and think her a fool. If she never told anybody, people would think her behavior strange and bother her until she might have to tell the truth. If...if she told the truth and used the Elves as proofs, she would become 'accomplice' by association.

Charlotte wondered how much she had spent already and how much she will be spending from now on. She was lucky enough that her landlord had loose rules, especially since she was a detective and all, but she was sure he would become suspicious sooner or later. Having three Elves would mean more trash to throw out and more laundry trips up and down the stairs. Moreover, the Elves would have to get out once in a while.

As she kicked a small rock with her shoe, Charlotte looked out towards the alley entrance. She saw four tall figures walking towards her, all dressed in jeans, plain t-shirts and sweatshirts. When they came closer, Charlotte tried to figure out who was who again. She blurted, " I'm sorry, but who's Elladan and who's Elrohir again? They're not like human twins. They're uncannily identical."

Legolas pointed to the one to her left.

" He is Elrohir. The other is Elladan."

Although she nodded, Charlotte knew she wouldn't be able to tell them apart as soon as they changed their clothes. Elven twins seemed to be different from human twins in the sense that the older twin was not slightly shorter than the younger twin was. They also had completely, entirely identical faces as if one was wearing a prosthetic replica of the other's face. They were identical enough to make her think that she was seeing double.

' I'll have to do something about that,' she noted to herself.

" Let's catch a cab," said Legolas. " I'm sorry, Charlotte, but can you pay the fare?"

The detective nodded, helping the others pick up the bags and walking out into the sidewalk. They had to walk a block or two before they caught the sight of an empty cab. Charlotte waved at one with her free arm, then proceeded to put the Elves' entire belongings in the trunk. Meanwhile, Legolas was giving them yet another set of instructions for the ride.

**::** I do realize that this is strange, but bear it for a while. This will transport us to your lodging. Enter and sit down, but do not say anything. I will handle everything.**::**

The three Elves nodded and sat close together in the back seat, observing the interior of their new mode of transportation. Legolas sat at the front seat and opened the window to speak to Charlotte.

" I will take another cab home or something. Here are my keys. It's the..."

Legolas took it, along with the taxi fare, and grinned.

" I know which it is."

She forced a smile and waved them goodbye, watching the taxi disappear behind the corner. Suddenly, she didn't feel like going home. Not wanting to face reality after superficially accepting it, Charlotte wanted to keep away as long as she could. Being entrusted with three Elves was like being entrusted with foreign children. She might have to cook, teach, clean, and watch out for them until who knows how long. Although she wasn't sure how it would work out with the 'perfect' Elves, human adults usually had a tough time getting used to new things unlike human children.

Charlotte decided to walk for a while to clear her head. Obviously she couldn't have all this stuff in her head when the captain would bark at her tomorrow morning.

Goodbye freedom, hello restraints.

****

.

Charlotte arrived at her apartment hours before sunrise. Her feet and knees ached and her face was cold. Knocking on the door, she waited impatiently. The door squeaked open slowly just a few inches, then closed again. Legolas took the chain off and swung open the door completely. She could see the three Elves sitting on her couch, holding cups of green tea. As soon as she saw them, they rose to bow to her.

" I was not sure which room they could use, so they have not unpacked yet," spoke Legolas. He closed the door when she entered and took off her coat. Out of habit, she took out the gun and placed it on a table nearby. After a moment, she took it and put it back in her holster. She wasn't sure if she should leave it lying around.

" Well," she articulated, " I only have one spare bedroom, but nobody really comes in here."

Vaguely and ambiguously, Legolas cocked his eyebrow.

" Actually, I don't let anyone in."

Legolas smiled.

" I'll have to clean out some papers and things in that room. Give me a few minutes."

As she walked off to clear the extra bedroom, Legolas turned to the Elves and explained the situation. Elrohir and Elladan seemed to have quite a few questions in their curious minds.

**::** Although you have many things to explain, I must first ask what that contraption was. It was very strange,**::** declared Elrohir.

To that, Legolas replied,**::** that 'strange' contraption is called an automobile. It allows one to travel at a desired speed, but there are many rules that one must follow in operating such a device. There are many devices in the world of Men that may cause serious repercussions if one does not use it properly. I will teach you in due time about the new Men, their customs, and their strange inventions.**::** He smiled to watch them look all about them with such inquisitiveness. It seemed that Haldir had his eyes set on the television.

Soon after, Charlotte finished removing most of her things to her own bedroom. Still feeling awkward that this was happening at all, she called to Legolas.

" It's not big enough for the three of them, but large enough for their things."

Watching the four Elves move their belongings into the small room, she sighed and brushed a few strands of hair behind her ears. Knowing that this was completely crazy, Charlotte chuckled softly. As far back as she could remember, Charlotte couldn't recall one 'normal' memory. It seemed that she was bound to live an aberrant life.

All things were unpacked soon enough and Legolas came back out, holding something with a green leaf-wrapping. Charlotte smelled something sweet.

" This is _lembas_, the waybread of the Elves. I don't know if you can recall, but 'one small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown Man.' Try some," spoke Legolas. He held out the leaf-enveloped bread as she unfurled the wrapping. The pleasant scent spread all around her, and she relished it. It was almost as pleasant as the touch of an Elf.

" When you said 'small bite,' how small do you mean?"

The Elf laughed and broke off a very tiny piece and handed it to her. Charlotte looked at it and smirked.

" This isn't a small bite. It's a crumb."

She tossed it in her mouth and chewed as much as she could of that small bit. When she swallowed, her stomach felt as if she had just eaten a big steak. Trying to distract her mind from the surrealism of her present situation, the detective uttered a joke. " I guess if I find a crumb of _lembas_ on my clothes at work, I won't have to go out for lunch."

Legolas laughed and ate a piece himself. It had been too long since he tasted the food or drink of the Elves. Its sweet, pleasant taste made him reminisce of the old days when he ate _lembas_.

" I know today was surreal, Charlotte, but you don't know how much this means to this world and its future. You don't know how much this means to me...that you were willing to trust me. In your place, I would have walked away."

Charlotte scoffed gently and sat down on the recliner, putting her feet up on the ottoman.

" Don't be too sure."

The Elf chose to ignore that remark and continued on.

" As you may have already guessed, housing three roommates will not be cheap or easy. I will try my best to aid you in those matters, as well as the ones I will soon explain. For the time being, the Elves will have a difficult time adjusting to their new environment. Please watch out for anything that may pose a threat to their safety."

She nodded and commenced to remove her shoes.

" When they learn the English language and the human culture, they will not be of any trouble to you. Until then, please be patient and understanding. I am sure that they would have stayed in Valinor if they had a choice. They have made so much sacrifices themselves to leave their home and pick up their weapons once again."

He took a seat beside her and took off his hat.

" I hope you don't need sleep, because what I have to tell you may take a long time."

She didn't reply, but stared at him from the corner of her eyes. Her feet ached too much to fall asleep anytime soon.

" I will now tell you some things that you need to know as the caretaker of Elves," Legolas began.

Charlotte braced herself, preparing to hear what other sacrifices _she_ would have to make in the name of humanity.

****

.......

A/N: Hehehe! You _know_ I'm gonna have lots of fun introducing modern technology to the three newcomers! I already have several ideas ready! Next chapter's going to take place the same day as this chapter ended in, so keep that in mind.

Please Review!


	16. No “Us” in This World

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (coming soon?), and quite a bit of violence.

--I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are...--

--**::** Words in between two bolded colons**::** are in Elvish (Sindarin)--

A/N: Gotcha! Surprised by entrance of THREE Elves? I knew you would be. Let's just say it's for 'practicality' and 'the more the better' reasons. Two Elves just aren't enough to fight hundreds or perhaps thousands. Btw, swearing is slightly more intense in this chapter.

****

.......

In the darkness of an exceptionally commodious replica of an old French chateau, minus an algae-infested moat, a phone rang incessantly with the echo as its accompaniment. It rang about a dozen times or so before someone stirred in the gigantic bed next to the phone. Someone tossed and turned a few times in the satin and silk sheets, taking the pillow off of the head. An arm crawled along the sheets and reached for the phone. A woman's cranky groan rose from under the sheets. Picking up the phone a few seconds later, the man growled into the receiver.

" Who is this...?"

A moment of silence passed. The man yawned.

" Get up and go some place where your bitch can't hear you, Mr. Heath," spoke the person on the other line.

Don rose from the comfortable bed and put on a velvet robe. Somewhat anxiously, he went into his study and locked the door. " You know it's three twenty-six in the morning, right?" He asked.

" All the more reason for me to call you now, Don," the other replied. There was a soft, resonant chuckle.

" What is it now? What do you want?"

" Oh, I wanted to inform you that our little vigilante problem has grown bigger since sunset yesterday. I hope you'll start considering this as a potent threat once it puts you up as a target also."

Mr. Heath scoffed while pouring himself a glass of bourbon. He inquired tartly, " what makes you think _I_ should care about such petty problems?"

" Because I am telling you to."

" Not persuasive enough. I've got enough work on my hands as it is. The government's breathing down my neck because my competitors just can't keep up with me. You try keeping a globally influential company from being split into pieces just because jealous bastards accuse me of intentionally creating a monopoly!"

Don gulped down the bourbon and breathed heavily from anger. The wealthy executive came to his upstate manor to get away from the whole monopoly business with the government, but now this bastard was just ruining it. He was sure his week off was now completely spoiled.

" Don, relax. No matter how acidic your words turn out on the pH scale, this problem won't go away. Don't be naive. This problem will affect us all, so you'll just have to deal with it."

" How dare you speak to me that way!?"

Don cooled down a little when he heard a fearsome, yet hushed snarl coming from the phone. It sent a painful chill down his spine, inducing cold sweat all over his shivering body.

" Don't take that tone with me, Don. I disapprove of such lack of tolerance."

" Fine, but remember that it is _your_ responsibility to take care of those types of problems."

The person on the other line laughed. Don felt irate to hear such laughter pointed against him. The president of Forte Conglomerate did not enjoy being laughed at.

" My dear Don, whatever gave you that idea?"

Gritting his teeth in anger, Don poured another glass of bourbon and guzzled it down. There was never a good time to speak to this annoying person. Even if he was in the greatest mood, this person could weigh it all down to misery with just a couple words. That snarl was just spiteful too.

" Anything you want to tell me, Don? I know you've got something on your mind."

He hated that too.

" No, I don't."

" Sure, Don. I'll take your word for it."

Don was about to hang up the phone, but stopped when he heard the other person speak again.

" By the way, Don, keep an eye on your slut. She has a tendency of cheating on rich CEOs with the cabana boys."

" Mind your own goddamn business!"

Turning the phone off and slamming it onto the table, Don huffed with venomous heat. He also didn't like the fact that the particular individual always ridiculed his personal love life. Constant flow of annoying remarks and unpredictable persona haunted Don whenever he spoke with that human being. It was like speaking to the Devil himself.

****

.

Donald Heath, the third-generation of an All-American billionaire family, only knew the life of extravagant wealth and power. Being the only son and child of a famous couple, he always got what he wanted. His parents - a second-generation billionaire father and a posh former supermodel mother - didn't nurture their son, but spoiled him. Although Don had his own natural talents in business and personal charm, it would not have been wrong to say he was the most conceited, arrogant, and naive person in the world.

His father, Claude Heath, was not the handsomest, the most charming man. However, his inherited wealth paved the way for his self-destructive lifestyle. His left leg being slightly deformed, Claude learned to 'cover' it up with his fortune. Claude dated many women before he married Don's mother Melanie. Mrs. Heath was a former supermodel from Europe who, unfortunately, didn't care much about children. She preferred to spend her time with her friends shopping. It also became known that she often was seen with other men in public.

Claude found her nagging and annoying soon enough, and divorced her for a younger, prettier supermodel. He never was a father figure to Don, but provided more than enough money to let the child have whatever he wanted. After attending an expensive private school and making his way to an Ivy League school through his father's very 'generous' donation, Don soon began working at his father's side.

That only lasted about four years until Claude fell into a serious alcoholic problem. The still-vigorous executive accidentally drove his car off a cliff one night, a gruesome result of consuming several shots of hard liquor. Don, who was then twenty-six, inherited the internationally prominent conglomerate that was worth several billion dollars alone. The orphan also inherited several magnificent estates, ranches, and other lavish properties.

Thankfully, Don's natural business abilities kicked in almost as soon as he inherited his father's company. It must have been an inherent gene amongst the Heaths, for Don never did or learned much while working alongside his father. Over the last three years, Don succeeded in strengthening his company to a point where his competitors began to loathe the capitalistic system. Thus came the federal interference in order to prevent a complete monopoly in the areas of technology, weapons, transportation, and security. Even then, the government could not find a surefire way to pin down Forte Conglomerate because of the innumerable government contracts it held in those areas.

As history teaches us, the rich and the powerful have always attracted attention. For Don, it was a four-fold advantage because of his wealth, power, youth, and charm. Don led a quite promiscuous life as his father had, but worse. The affluent CEO was always on the cover of tabloids - falsely, and sometimes truly, associated with various celebrities and other prominent figures of society.

Despite the hatred and envy his lifestyle bought, Don fully exercised and enjoyed his four-fold advantage for the hell of it.

****

.

Out in the pseudo-chateau's luxurious garden, Donald Heath sat in a pricey lounge chair drinking a glass of fresh orange juice. There were plates of breakfast upon the ornate patio table, complete with a crystal vase of blood-red roses. Amidst this opulent scene, Don felt right at home.

Flipping the pages of the newspaper, he snapped his finger at a servant waiting nearby.

" Tell Frank to come up here for lunch."

The servant nodded and walked off to make the call. Don folded up the newspaper and got up from the chair. Another servant came up to clean up the table.

Pushing open the elaborate double door to his bedroom, Don found the woman awake. The blonde woman was sitting on a Victorian chair before the antique vanity table with a large matching mirror. Dressed in revealing lace undergarment, she brushed her long hair with a silver hairbrush.

" Enjoying my hospitality, Amanda?"

The woman named Amanda got up and looked all around the room.

" I didn't know you were this rich, Don."

He laughed.

" Do you think billionaires live in three-bed, two-bath houses?"

She frowned a little, knowing that he just made fun of her. Still, he was rich and had just given her a necklace with a five-carat diamond centerpiece. Moreover, he was young and charming too. Amanda was thankful of the fact alone that Don wasn't old and wrinkly.

" I'm going to have a guest for lunch today, so do whatever you want until dinner."

Amanda replied, trying to sound sexy, " I thought I might go for a swim, but I don't have my swimsuit with me."

Don began walking out of the room.

" Go skinny-dipping for all I care."

The blonde woman pouted and sat back down on the chair. Her allure hadn't failed before in all her life as an A-list actress. She thought she had him under her control when they started dating a week ago. It seemed that this trust fund baby was different from all others.

****

.

Frank Haydn and Donald Heath sat across each other, eating their lunch. Frank wondered what his boss wanted out of him now.

" Frank, I call you over here for three main reasons: the monopoly case, the Earl-Harris issue, and that damn 'vigilante' problem."

Those were some serious issues.

" Tell me what's going on with the monopoly case."

Frank swallowed his steak and swallowed it down with a little merlot.

" Mr. Heath, the Forte Commission is now trying to force us to give up several important documents such as our contracts with foreign governments. As you ordered, I am trying to keep them away. Our lawyers are going through those documents as we speak to make sure nothing in there will pose a problem. They're also trying to find a loophole to avoid having the company separated."

Don nodded.

" As for the Earl-Harris issue, I have convinced a press mastermind to help the incumbent lowball Andrew. As you know, Andrew's platform is much too idealistic and goes against the grain of political insiders. The two-front war involving the media and politicians will make sure Earl-Harris doesn't get elected."

Don asked, " he's the one who first began a media campaign against us, correct?"

Frank hesitated, then said, " yes."

" Without him, the people and the government wouldn't dare challenge me. His perfect record, heritage, and charisma are bugging the hell out of me. I don't want him to just lose the gubernatorial election - I want him utterly humiliated and ruined, you hear me? I want him so obliterated that he'll never rise back from the ground!"

Somewhat relishing his boss's unnerving distress, Frank nodded.

" Now, about that fucking vigilante," spoke Don.

" I couldn't trust bootlegged copies of spinal cord laceration files, so I obtained real files hacked from the NYPD data base. After research and brainstorming, my people have come to a conclusion that it may be a rogue Gifted who's seeking revenge on our New York division."

" Why a Gifted? Doesn't it make more sense that the killer be an Ungifted?"

" No. A normal human couldn't do all of this. It's impossible."

" Says who?" Asked Don viciously.

Frank swallowed back venomous words. He muttered " you know who I'm talking about."

Don narrowed his brows in contempt. It was that bastard again.

" Other theories have been disproved and we have no omens to go on."

" Frank, tell 'you know who' that such problems are too trivial for my attention. Tell the demented freak to remember our deal."

The Gifted junior executive swallowed hard at that insulting remark. Still, Frank tried to reason by saying, " but you provide everything we use, down to every last penny and bullets! If this vigilante knows the Gifted well enough to cut the spinal cords, he or she will soon connect you to this whole matter. When that happens, you have to be prepared for war alongside us."

" I don't give a damn," retorted the annoyed CEO. He spat back in a reserved manner, but still with fervent rancor. " There is no 'us' in this world."

Frank thought Don foolish for underestimating the leader of the Gifted. Being the third in rank of the Order of the Gifted, Frank knew how powerful the leader was. He had seen the awesome power of the ultimate Gifted in person. Although he spoke some tart words at Don, Frank could never do such a thing to his true leader. Disobedience within the Order usually earned a bloody and horrifying torture.

" If you don't care about an emminent threat creeping up behind you, I guess our discussion is done here, Mr. Heath."

Don dismissed him as he drank his merlot. As he continued to eat his steak, Frank turned around to warn Don.

" Don; don't forget what we Gifted do."

With that, the junior executive briskly walked away, unbuttoning his sleek jacket. Turning on his cell phone, Frank dialed the HQ.

" He won't budge."

A voice said, " let him learn the hard way, Frank."

" Yes."

Frank turned it off and entered the private helicopter, ready to fly to the airfield a few miles away. He hated Don so much that he often wanted to kill the bastard himself. Still, if his leader wanted him to be subservient, Frank Haydn would be.

After lunch, Don decided to relieve his stress by playing around with Amanda. Taking a leisurely stroll to the pool, he tried to calm himself down. Frank always got on his nerves, just like that bastard leader of the Gifted. Even if milder than his leader, Frank's insubordination was a stab at Don's monstrous ego. Although he could've fired him, that damned deal didn't permit it. As long as they were partners, Frank would have to be a member within the board.

' Just abide my time,' he thought. ' After all, this is all for a greater scheme of mine.'

He smirked. When he arrived at the poolside, Don saw Amanda kissing that cabana boy. Oblivious to his presence, she was flirting with one of his domestic servant as that Gifted warned. Don wasn't jealous of her infidelity, being a staunchly infidel creature himself, but he did hate the fact that the Gifted bastard knew exactly what Amanda would do. Even if tabloids were generally false, that Gifted always knew who Don was dating and also knew every little detail about the woman. Still, it gave him an advantage over his girlfriend, thus making their breakup more deliciously destructive to his maniacal mind.

' I was getting bored by you anyhow,' thought Don. He began walking towards the pool with the leisurely stride of a confident predator.

****

.

Charlotte couldn't stay still all day, wondering what was going on in her apartment. Thoughts of the Elves playing with buttons and household implements scared her. They were like babies, except they had common sense and the body of adults. The latter part didn't reassure her at all, since they could reach anywhere with their height. Hoping the Elves didn't hurt themselves in anyway, Charlotte relentlessly glanced at her wristwatch in hopes of making the car and time go faster.

" You're out of it again, Char," commented Greg. He had taken notice of her continuing strange behavior. Perhaps she remembered something from the night before and was uncomfortable in his presence. He hoped that was not the case.

" Um, Char, you remember anything from the night before?"

" Huh?"

" The night when we went to the pub?"

She tried to think, but all she saw in her mind was the Elves sticking a finger in a toaster or something of that nature. Dying to get home, she soon forgot what Greg had just asked. Greg shook her a little, seeing that her face had become a little pale. Perhaps she remembered?

" Do you?"

" Huh?"

Greg now was wondering if she was avoiding it all together. Maybe it was the whole 'co-worker' thing, or even being drunk that time. It could've been their age difference.

" Anything?"

" No..."

Sighing softly, Greg stole a glance at her. Charlotte, on the other hand, took in a breath of anxiety. She wasn't sure why Greg kept asking her about the night before, but her mind was more focused on the three Elves back home. Hoping that elvish common sense was similar to the human common sense, Charlotte glanced at her watch again.

****

.......

A/N: Well, now you know more about Don Heath. Let's hope that the Elves are still intact when Charlotte comes back home. Care to review this chappie?

Please Review!


	17. Of Palantiri and TVs

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (?), and quite a bit of violence.

-- I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are... --

-- **::** Words in between two bolded colons**::** are in Elvish (Sindarin) --

. . . . . . .

After hastily thanking Greg for the ride home, Charlotte rushed up the stairs with keys in hand. With her face red and all out of breath, she unlocked the door and locked it as soon as she entered. It was an amazing sight to behold, for her at least.

Elrohir, Elladan, and Haldir all rose from the couch to bow in their elvish manners. All were healthy and unscathed. She let out a huge sigh of relief.

" Hello," She uttered. A moment of silence passed.

" You're back."

Legolas walked out from the Elves' room, holding a folded parchment in hand. He shoved it in his pocket and smiled.

" And _you_'re here," Charlotte responded. Somehow, she felt as if this wasn't her home anymore. In her mind, she was 'visiting' her elvish friends in New York. It was bizarre, but it was the truth.

Legolas seemed different this time. He wore a pair of loose, dark jeans with a wide black belt. His grey t-shirt made his Fellowship brooch stand out even clearer upon his chest. Still, his blond hair was tied into a low ponytail - no hat, no bandana. Even his ears were exposed. It was certainly fascinating to see an Elf so modernized and accustomed to the ways of Men. To Charlotte's amazement, he didn't look all that different generally. His pointed ears and long blond hair did make him look a little out of place. She wondered if he ever considered a haircut.

Charlotte took off her coat and undid her holster. It was a trying day plagued by constant anxiety. Seeing the Elves perfectly intact was relieving, but Charlotte wondered how long she'd have to be like this. ' Relax, they are Elves after all,' she told herself, but it was like watering a dead plant. It didn't do any good.

Having sensed some emotional unrest in her, Legolas walked up with his hands in pockets. It was a perpetual habit that developed over the years.

" Please, don't be that way."

Possessing the uncanny elvish senses, the three Elves silently rose and retired to the extra room. Charlotte saw that and sighed, running her hand through her hair in frustration. This was just what she needed right now - Charlotte Norwood, the first ever Earth human to make contact with the three Elves, now made a bad impression on behalf of all human population. If they ever decided to look down upon Men as lowly beings, she would die of shame.

Legolas saw this and quickly stated, " I know what you're thinking, Charlotte. That's not it."

He knew this was all a tremendous pressure on a single mortal, but how else could it be?

" Are they hurt?" Charlotte finally asked. She was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

" No. I've been here since this morning to keep them company and teach them the English language. I have not let them touch any appliances, for the matter. I shall get to that when they have learned English."

" You've got to be joking. Do you know how long that would take?"

" Not long. Do not underestimate the Elves."

The young detective cocked an eyebrow.

" You don't believe me?" Asked Legolas.

" What if I don't?"

The Elf laughed as he shrugged his shoulder.

" Whatever happened to good old trust and faith?"

" They were all spent on your Middle-earth and Valar."

Somewhere during this exchange of words, Charlotte's stomach rumbled so loudly that Legolas didn't need elvish ears to hear it.

" No crumbs on your clothes?"

She answered tartly in vengeance, hiding her embarrassment - she had no patience or kindness left today. " No. I was busy earning money to feed you freeloaders."

Neither said anything after that, but just stood in silence. Charlotte expected to see a little blushing on Legolas's face, but she found it startlingly calm. The Elf had been used to tweaking the hospitality of his allies for whatever he believed was necessary for the good of mankind, but he never abused his privileges unjustly. This situation was no different.

They stood still for a few more seconds. The three Elves inside the little room found the silence strange. Legolas settled himself on the sofa and stared at her. He knew what she was thinking other than what was left in the refrigerator. His human ally was pondering about anything and everything to do with her life from now on.

As if on cue to relieve the awkward silence, Haldir, Elrohir, and Elladan exited the room and went about doing little things for distraction. Legolas had assigned them English workbooks to do, and they were penciling through it quickly. Charlotte found this confounding, so she just plopped onto a chair in front of the TV and picked up the remote. Before Legolas could say a word, she turned it on instinctively. Almost as instinctively as the policewoman, Haldir instinctively turned his head towards the once-black box. Now there was a moving picture with people, letters, and sound.

**::** Ai, Valar! Is that a cubical _palantír_!?**::** He shouted.

Elrohir and Elladan stared also and found it mystifying. Legolas groaned silently and took the remote control from Charlotte's hand.

" Please! Don't turn it on until I say so!"

He now turned to his fellow Elves with a nervous smile.

**::** It is not exactly a _palantír_,**::** he uttered before his astonished audience. Their eyes were wide as if they would soon paw curiously at the black box that was the television.

**::** Then what is it, Legolas?**::**

**::** It is called a television or TV for short. It is a mechanical contraption that Men have created in order to both inform and entertain themselves. You must first conquer the English language before you can properly operate this piece of machinery. Please understand, my good friends!**::**

The three Elves managed to maintain their calm physical composure, but their eyes stole quick and careful glances at the _palantír_-like object called the 'television.' These reincarnated Men certainly had to be quite powerful in order to create such things on their own. The _palantiri _of Middle-earth were not all that abundant or easy to use, but this 'TV' was. That also brought another question into consideration. If Charlotte was able to access this _palantír_-like object, did that mean she was a Dúnadan reincarnate? Was that why they were lodging in her home?

**::** Legolas, you have many things to explain to us yet!**::** Exclaimed Haldir.

Legolas wasn't sure why his elder spoke in such manner, but he knew it was true. It was a part of his underdeveloped plan to explain everything to both the Elves and Charlotte as soon as they could all speak the same language. However, it seemed nothing was going as he predicted. He didn't count on them being so inquisitive about _everything_.

.

Charlotte retired for bed before her guests. As she lay on her bed, looking out the window, she saw much of the sky in an ash-crimson hue. The artificial streetlights always created this tone along the horizon, unlike the deep blue in her hometown Small Paradise . It was a different feeling all together. Instead of seeing a clean celestial body merging with endless fields of wheat and corn, she was now seeing a murky sky hiding behind dull spikes of metal and concrete.

It made her wonder why she moved to New York at all.

New York had a beauty of its own and she respected it, but she wasn't sure why she accepted the offer to work in the renowned NYPD. Since Austin and Bonnie adopted her, she never even thought about leaving Small Paradise . Charlotte did think about running away sometimes while her father was still living with her, but they were all just childish notions. Maybe it was the same childishness of hers that made her impetuously accept the offer.

She laughed. Charlotte laughed because she remembered moments in her life when her almost stubborn, juvenile qualities got her into troubles. For example, her constant refusal to help her father scam people earned several glorious bruises. Back then, she didn't refuse because she knew it was morally and legally wrong. Her reason was that he'd spend all of the money on booze and cigarettes. She hated the scent of tobacco on him and he was unpleasant to be around when drunk, not that he had a pleasant personality when sober. Even her reason was childish. After all, she was only human.

' Only _reincarnated_ human,' Charlotte corrected herself.

A moment of complete silence passed in her mind. Thoughts of her drunken father brought up something unpleasant that she had been avoiding since she awakened this morning. _She_ was the one to suggest drinking alcoholic beverages last night. Her mind raced hastily to figure out why Greg kept asking if she remembered anything. Did she do something foolish? What had happened? Feeling sleep tug on her tired eyelids, Charlotte pulled the blanket closer to her chin.

' My life's going down a bottomless hill...when wasn't it?'

There was a wishful thinking that maybe her life would be somewhat more bearable in the world of bitter and sweet dreams. In the window beside the bed, there was a reflection of Charlotte in a backdrop of ash-crimson sky and teeth of cold steel and concrete.

.

Emily sat stiff in the dark. Her eyes were wide open. Her hands were folded neat on her lap.

She had been waiting since after school.

For two days and two nights straight, Emily had come to Legolas's place. The first afternoon, she thought he was out taking care of something, like his patrols. The first night, she thought he was late. The second afternoon, she thought he was hurt and alone in some God-forsaken place. The second night, she wondered if he had abandoned her here.

' Where are you, Lee? I'm scared to be alone, and I miss you.'

Even in the dark, she could imagine Lee briskly walking through the door. Her imaginary Lee would then sit in that old wooden rocking chair, sitting limply. Suddenly, as if he was real, Emily spoke to the imaginary man in the rocking chair.

" Why are you so late?"

She imagined a response.

' To test you.'

She answered the silence.

" For what?"

' To see if you'd wait for me.'

Emily laughed at herself. This was the equivalent of talking to oneself, but she missed him and couldn't help herself. It was heck of a lot better than sitting alone in the dark, listening to the harrowing silence.

" Of course I would."

She tried to imagine Lee smiling. It was a bit difficult, piecing together several memories of him to complete one meager smile, but she was satisfied with the result. It was more comforting than the empty rocking chair beside her.

" I thought you left me. I thought you abandoned me here."

' No. I'm here now.'

From there on, she couldn't force her mind to imagine anything. All she drew was the reality before her, empty and dark. Where was he? Did he really abandon her? Emily had imagined several things that she hoped would occur in the future, but she didn't expect this. It was the one thing she had avoided all this time. If he left her here, what would she do?

' I'm not ready to say good-bye to you yet,' she thought, ' and I don't ever want to.'

She glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearing midnight. Although she did not wish to return home, Emily got up and picked up her backpack. Even now, she could smell, see, and feel him here. His absence made her realize how much she had been depending on him all this time. Now that he was gone and she was alone, her sneaker-clad feet dragged along the floor as she walked out of the place and pushed the old door. The clatter echoed in the dark alley as she walked away, the sound of her footsteps rising into the night air.

. . . . . . .

A/N: Really! Think about it! LOL Television equals the _palantír_? I'm thinking that maybe I should make Haldir have a peculiar _closeness_ with the TV, and the twins with something else. Ai, let's hope Charlotte gets only the basic channels...(wink, wink...not that they'd be strangers to it, but I'm sure they'll be disturbed nonetheless about the vulgarity of it nowadays). Remember that as far as implications and explicit statements go, Emily's feelings are unanswered (romance or no, that is the question...mwahaha!).

Please Review!


	18. Blood and Fear

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (?), and quite a bit of violence.

-- I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are... --

-- :: Words in between double colons:: are in Elvish (Sindarin) --

-- Fictional things will be signified with double right parentheses )) --

A/N: Sooooo sorry! I don't think you need to walk a mile in my moccasins, not that I own a pair of moccasins anyway (how about a my stiletto heels?), but I believe a few dozen of yards will do. The last month and a half have been one of the most hectic and disappointing time that didn't involve any major sicknesses. If I can ever regain my usual fanfic-writing momentum back, that'll be the day when hell freezes over. Please understand that I had a massive computer problem that took over two weeks to solve, and the last few weeks were spent trying to get used to all of the other new stuff in my life. I'll try harder now to get things going again, now that I know there are _actually_ more readers than there are reviewers. I didn't really believe it until I saw all of the reviews some people left, urging me to update. Would it be unreasonable of me to expect more reviews from now on? Just joking. That's my rant for now. Enjoy the LONG awaited Chapter 18!

****

.......

" Um…can I ask you something, Greg?"

Greg took his eyes off the road for a second and glanced at Charlotte. She appeared as normal as she could get, except the fact that she was pulling on a loose thread on her jacket. Apparently she didn't realize that she was unraveling the thread to her jacket button. It was making him completely nervous, although he was trying his best to shake it off. She didn't seem to remember what happened that night at the bar, and she didn't seem to show any interest in him. If he poked at it a little more, she might return it at least four-fold with punches to his jaws and kicks to the sensitive chasm of his human bipod.

" Can we talk later?" He managed to mutter. They were in the process of trailing a possible suspect in a busy street. This man was wanted for accessory to several murders and held important connections to bigger crime lords based in New York. There was a strict order to catch him alive and unharmed if possible. Greg personally thought it too forgiving for a scum bag, but he would follow it if it was an order. Besides, he could go easy on the guy who was providing distraction for this unpleasant situation.

" Why? You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

There was a little sting to her words. He was testing her nerves and, frankly, he was succeeding well beyond any expectations.

" Please, we'll talk later," retorted Greg. He thought in his mind, ' please, scum bag, start running away and I promise not to punch you on your face!'

His fingers tapped on the steering wheel. Her fingers unraveled the thread.

' That's right! Start running!' Thought Greg.

An electric blue muscle car began weaving its way through the rather tight traffic. Charlotte radioed for backups while Greg put the siren on the rooftop. With the siren blaring and blinking, Greg began to chase after the bastard with a certain look that reminded Charlotte of a hungry lion. They were soon joined by several police cars and the suspect panicked. The blue car squealed its way over to the other side of traffic and passed by all of the police units. Greg jerked the steering wheel and followed suit, wanting to put his mind on something else.

The chase went on from the middle of a crowded urban area to the bordering suburbs. Some police units split up to trap the suspect, but Greg was hotly pursuing from behind. He hoped that this criminal would choose a sparsely inhabited neighborhood to drive through, but he didn't have such luck. The electric blue car sped through stop signs and honking cars, completely unaware or deliberately causing the ruckus and chaos. Other units reported that they were about two blocks ahead of the target and were about to turn corners to close in. The climax was coming nearer.

Within a few moments, the two police cars emerged from clumps of houses and trees, forming a blockade. It would be stupid of the suspect to try and drive through the rows of houses on either side, so no one had to bother about that option. The only one the were worried about was the option where the suspect would run out of the car, dash into a home, and take people hostage. That was the last thing Greg need right now. He would rather put a dozen leads in that disgusting head of his and call it a day. That is…if he doesn't want to keep his job.

Greg exclaimed, " get ready!"

The blue car screeched violently to a halt. Greg stopped his car and pulled out his pistol, and Charlotte did the same. Practically kicking his door open, Greg stuck his pistol in the crevice between the car frame and the door to aim towards the modified vintage vehicle. His partner gently opened her door instead and aimed her own gun. Somehow, her mind wasn't in all of this. It was all divided on Greg, Legolas, the Elves, finances, the federal government, and all of those things that gave her a headache.

A policeman spoke over a megaphone. " Come out slowly with your hands up!"

There was no movement inside the car. A sudden gust of wind swept through the automobile-ridden street. It brushed Charlotte's loose hair over her face and hindered her vision.

As soon as she took her left hand off of the pistol butt to tuck her hair behind her ear, a gun went off somewhere within this semi-chaotic scene. The back window of the electric blue car shattered immediately after the gunshot was heard. Cops and detective all ducked for cover, searching for a target to aim at. Greg could see a head just behind the chair. He thought he saw a sharp glint from somewhere within the dim interior of the car.

That was all in an instant.

Couple of seconds passed by, just enough for a blink or two of an eye. When everyone regained their nerves, they began thinking and acting like experience police officers under dangerous circumstances. While everyone began to make moves to arrest the shooter, Greg motioned for Charlotte to come to his side of the car. Since the front passenger seat was slightly more exposed than the driver's seat, he wanted her to trade places. A handful of seconds passed by. There was no sound or movement. He motioned again in case she had missed it. Silence…that's what he heard. Almost fearfully, he turned his head to check her status.

The front passenger seat was empty. Charlotte wasn't there.

Gulping hard, Greg summoned just enough courage to call her name. " …Char?"

There was no answer. She wasn't responding. He felt his heart skip a beat. Where was she and why wasn't she answering him?

All of a sudden, everything seemed to slow down for him. As he glanced over his shoulder, he could hear a shouting in slow motion. Someone said, " officer down! Officer down!"

Greg took a good look all around. Everyone were taking cover by their own cars. There were two to each police cars. The only one missing was his partner.

' No…'

He holstered his pistol and crawled from the driver's side to the passenger seat. When he made it over to the chair, he saw a grey and blue clad figure sprawled on the black asphalt. He stuck his head out of the car and glanced to the right. Charlotte's long brown locks were slowly absorbing a dark liquid, forming wet clumps. All he could see of her, besides her clothes and hair, were her pale hands - one still clutching onto the damned pistol.

Now Greg contemplated his choice between checking her vitals or avenging her injury. He would have done both if he could, but he knew his limits. Even when he decided upon revenge, he couldn't order his arms and legs to obey his desperate commands. It was as if his limbs knew he would be subject to investigation, suspension, and possible dismissal if he screwed up this case and killed that bastard. That might have been a great excuse for his supposed cowardice, but the fact of the matter was that he couldn't conjure up enough courage to summarily follow through his decision right now.

Greg could hear the approaching ambulance as he questioned his courage. His hearing and vision returned to normal pace as the paramedics scurried towards the car. He watched them put Charlotte on a rolling collapsible bed and drive away as soon as the ambulance doors closed with a loud bang.

****

.

Almost an insufferably thunderous rock music blared through Emily's headphones. They were numbing her nervous mind, preparing her to face perhaps the third day of emptiness of Lee's home. The continuous trudging numbed her body. Emily wondered what she would find in Lee's home today. Would it be another room full of oxygen? Would it be a rocking chair enveloping a dark figure? Would there be an empty shell of someone that she once knew?

Asking questions were much easier than trying to answer them. Emily knew that. She had been asking herself so many questions for three days now, but she hadn't come up with even one answer. Fear made her ignore them. Dread kept her from them.

In a matter of a few dull moments, Emily's feet halted. She turned off her CD player and took off her headphones. Now she was staring at that same old door in the same old alley. That old steel door and that old steel knob all stared back at her. They were asking her what she was doing here. For what possible reason was she here, when it was more probable that Lee wouldn't return at all.

Her hands shook in her pocket. The keys jingled.

' What the hell am I doing? Just open the damn door!'

She thrust the key in and turned it forcefully. Taking in a deep, cool breath, she turned the cold knob and pushed the door open. As soon as she entered, without opening her eyes, she closed the steel door and faced it. There was a slight creaking noise as she slowly exhaled.

Emily whispered hesitantly, " Lee?"

" Hi."

Eyes widened in utter and shocking surprise, the teenager spun around so fast that her head spun. There was Lee, sitting in that old rocking chair, serene as if he was here all along and she was too insecure to notice him.

" Lee! Where have you been all this time!?"

His head was covered by a dark green bandana, but no sunglasses. She could see his clear blue eyes piercing through her soul. His presence calmed her and made her limbs and mind wake up from the numbness. Although she now became awake, the room became dead. Stillness stretched from corner to corner. The silence seemed to reach such a perfection that she was uncertain about breaking it.

" I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything before hand," began Lee, " but I had no choice. I didn't know when I would return."

She inadvertently sat down on the couch far away from him, knowing that it made her appear angrier and more narrow-minded than she meant to be.

He continued, " for better or for worse, the last few days away have set off a wanderlust in me again. From now on, I may be off without warning for several days. My…patrols…have become more complicated and I can't afford to make a single mistake. I don't know how this will affect you, but I wanted to warn you and let you adjust yourself to it.."

" Why do you have to do this? That's what the police are for."

Legolas exhaled. This was precisely why he didn't want her getting too close to him.

" I have to do it because the police doesn't know much about them."

Emily sighed and breathed heavily in irritation. He wasn't making this easy for her.

" _Who_ are they anyhow? You never even once told me who these people are and what they do. You never told me why _you_ have to be the one to keep an eye on them. Shouldn't FBI or CIA be on this instead of you? Why are you putting this all on yourself?"

" Emily…you don't know much about what I do. As a matter of fact, you don't even know who I really am. You don't know much because I didn't tell you much. I didn't tell you much because I never meant to meet you again after I saved you that night."

She hugged her knees close and began rocking gently in her little cozy corner. " What?"

" Truthfully, I never meant to live here for so long. I was only supposed to be here for a few weeks."

Legolas thought that perhaps he was going a little too fast for Emily to digest all of this. It was all very true. His original plan was to go to another part of New York for further reconnaissance. This was all a fluke; she wasn't a part of his well laid out plan.

Then again, Charlotte, Elrohir, Elladan, and Haldir weren't part of his original plan either. They had all walked or sailed into his intricately planned-out life. He was supposed to be alone right now - no allies, no old friends, and certainly no roommates. What was the Gods' plan that made it all go askew?

" Lee…did I do something wrong?"

He didn't say anything, but his eyes told her 'no.'

Whether Emily liked it or not, everything he said were painfully true. What was more, he wanted to use his future absences to get her used to relying on herself for confidence. After all, he couldn't be the buttress to her self-esteem, not even for a moment. That had to be her and her alone. Emily had been relying on other people to support her all of her life, but never once considered herself a potent source of courage and will power. Like every human being, she had it in her. She just couldn't tap into it right now.

" Please say something, Lee." There was a pitiful tone in her desperate plea. Emily's mind could only filter his words and nothing else. Lee was right. She didn't really know him at all. She didn't know who he was, where he was from, and why he let her be around him. The poor girl didn't even know exactly why she wanted to be around him every day. Perhaps she did, but she wasn't fully aware of it.

There was only silence.

****

.......

A/N: This was originally going to be longer, but I had to cut it off so I could update soon. Drop a review if you can and let me know you aren't mad at me…not too much, at least. (tears) You know I'm sorry, right? Until the next chapter, ciao!


	19. Further Manifestation

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (?), and quite a bit of violence.

-- I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are... --

-- ::Words in between two colons:: are in Elvish (Sindarin) --

-- I've given up coming up with another symbol for marking fictional things. You're on your own if you wanna know... --

A/N: I know I have enough characters as it is, but I have to introduce some reincarnations. Just think of this as a _very_ Tolkien-like fanfic - the dizzying number of characters and names… _I write what I read_ - like you are what you eat. Valar, I love Tokien!

. . . . . . .

" Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon."

A young couple walked up the stairs gracefully, prodding a young boy before them. They nodded respectfully at the butler as they walked past. The tall man was dressed in a comfortable pair of slacks and dress shirt. The woman, on the other hand, wore a lovely white cocktail dress trimmed with gold threads and beads. They made her blonde hair shine like silky threads of gold. The adorable boy was dressed in plain pants and shirt, comfortably robed. They were all youthful and vibrant.

Half way through the long hallway, they saw a little girl dressed in a cute plaid dress. She smiled and ran off beyond the corner. Soon three girls and a boy ran towards them, laughing and holding out their arms. Mrs. Gordon picked up the girl she saw in the hallway and kissed her cheek. The older boy grabbed the other boy's hand and pulled him along playfully towards the reception hall, talking about new toys he just got yesterday.

Mrs. Gordon called out, " Adelaide! When did Gwen lose her front tooth?"

A raven haired woman came out from the kitchen, dressed in a soft lavender dress with a white cardigan over her shoulders. A single strand of perfectly spherical pearls adorned her lovely neck. With her porcelain perfect skin, she was as perfect as an expensive doll.

" Just yesterday," she spoke gently.

The little girl named Gwenneth smiled and Mrs. Gordon smiled at the little black gap amongst the row of small pearly whites, just like her mother's necklace.

" The Tooth Fairy gave me a dollar!"

" How wonderful!"

Mrs. Gordon handed the child to Adelaide and followed the hostess into the kitchen. Mr. Gordon, on the other hand, went upstairs to a huge study. Under a lonely beam of light, a man in his later thirties sat reading a stack of papers. When he heard the door open, he stopped to look up.

" Still here?"

The relatively young, but older man rose and walked towards the door, turning off the light. He apologized for not meeting his guest at the door.

" If friends needed such formalities, I think I would've cut off all relations long ago," joked Mr. Gordon.

" So, Farrel…how was your anniversary trip?"

" Wonderful! Just wonderful! I'm sorry it had to be during the middle of your campaign."

The older man smiled.

" I thought we were done with formalities…and unnecessary apologies."

" True. So, how were your weeks without me, Drew?"

" I thought I'd finally crumble and call you in."

This was the home of Andrew Earl-Harris, the man currently running for governorship of New York. He was only 36 years old, but he knew so much already about life and politics. He was first in his class at Harvard and graduated with high honors. Andrew then joined the military and became a member of the Delta Force. Because of the nature of Delta Force ops, most of his military record was inaccessible to his opponents and the media. After years in the military, he thought it best to pick up where his father left off. He wanted to achieve the dream his father couldn't make come true.

His father, Anthony Earl-Harris, also started early in his political career and made it beyond the nomination for the presidential election. During his campaign, a deranged mental patient escaped and assassinated him while he was ahead of his opponents in all of the polls. That was then.

This is now. Andrew was the best liked candidate all around, rivaling popularities of the most admired presidents. He had a famous family tree including many prominent people of history. He also had a perfect wife and children. His wife, Adelaide Upton, was the daughter of a great scientist and Nobel Prize winner. Andrew was a decorated soldier of ten years since he first joined when he was 21 years-old. Two years later, he met Adelaide by chance at a party his mother was hosting. They dated, became engaged, and married in the next year. Before the first year of their blissful marriage passed by, they had their first child, a boy named Eldon. Two years later, they had a daughter named Sophia, then A girl named Margaret the next year, then their youngest daughter Gwenneth two years after. It was a pretty big family for this modern world, but they loved their children very much.

Farrel Gordon was Andrew's Chief Advisor. He was several years younger than Andrew, but was smart and experienced nonetheless. He was also a Harvard grad, following the tradition of his family. Farrel was also married. Elbert was his only son between his wife Ellen and himself. His family were closely associated with the Earl-Harris family, in the past and in the present. At a quick glance, one couldn't tell one family apart from another besides the fact that Ellen and Elbert had golden tresses.

Farrel had met Andrew through his older brother, Bond Gordon, had graduated just a year before Andrew and was in service together as a Delta Force member. They had gone through many black ops together, watching out for each other all of the time.

A year before Andrew was honorably discharged, Bond was killed in action during a black op. It was a dangerous mission and they knew the risks, but they went to serve their country. Unfortunately, an enemy began firing his .50 cal machine gun madly, spraying several bullets into Bond's vital arteries. Bleeding and crushed by heavy rubbles from an RPG, Bond died painfully in Andrew's arms. It was something Andrew tried to let go and live on with life, but couldn't bring himself to do so completely. Death was always grim to deal with, yet Andrew went on with it somehow with hopes for a better future.

" You know, I admire your ambitions, but your positions are bringing a lot of trouble close to home," said Farrel. He sipped his coffee and snuggled in the Queen Anne style chair.

" Not that Forte Conglomerate issue again," Andrew protested.

" Don Heath is not a man to be looked down upon. He didn't expand his already huge corporation by sheer luck. He has brains and the means to do basically whatever he wants."

Allowing himself to slouch to keep from snapping at his friend and advisor, Andrew tugged at his polo shirt collar. This was a thorny problem to approach from the start, but it seemed to be getting thornier day by day.

" He's not going to keep quiet forever. Don's wound up like a spring - he'll pounce when you have your guard down. He not the type of man to keep his attacks limited to you alone. Don will target you, your family, me, my family, your supporters, and whoever else he feels like throwing into the bloody Colosseum."

" Farrel…I can't back down now; no way, no how."

Farrel narrowed his brows in slight frustration and curiosity.

" Why not?"

" I…this may sound absurd, but there's this…this feeling that there's more to Don Heath and Forte Conglomerate than what we already know."

" A feeling? You're putting your entire career and reputation at risk because of a feeling?" There was no harsh tone to Farrel's voice, but it certainly would have been understandable if there were any.

" You know me as well as your brother did. Do you think I should try and let this go?"

Burrowing his chin within the shirt collar, Farrel bit his lower lip in confusion. After a short but crucial moment, he said, " Bond did always go with your gut instinct on everything, especially if you were this passionate. Still, I hope there's a good reason for all of this. It's not just your future at stake; it's also your supporters'."

The young politician nodded as he slowly exhaled. He had been plagued by this feeling - if plagued was the right word - for a few years now, a year or so after Don had become the CEO of Forte Conglomerate. No matter what he tried to tell himself, it was an omen to his mind. To his usual rational, logical self, this intuitive subject was strange. Yet, it was beginning to open a side of Andrew he never knew he had.

Andrew masked his face with both of his rough hands.

.

Legolas masked his face with both of his elven hands.

The Elf thought he felt something like a plain human headache. He never had one before, but the Elf was sure that was it.

Exhaling slowly, the elven prince took the hands off of his face and glanced all around the dark little room. It was one of those impersonal environment, void of any ornament that embodied personality. There was a little monitor on in the corner, not bright enough to light up anything. Mechanical beeps formed a monotonous cadence. Moonlight filtered through the cheap blinds and lit up a translucent object seemingly hovering midair. Nothing about this room was of any comfort to Legolas. Empty like a blank canvas, it was very depressing to the eyes of the beholder.

' How could this happen…?'

Every muscle shifted in reflex, causing the Elf to jump backwards into a tiny closet and shut the door noiselessly. Through a tiny crevice, he could see the center of the room. With his elven ears, he could hear a pair of well-worn shoes trudging down the hallway, coming closer towards the door. Legolas controlled his breathing and movement. He was silent and still, apart of this lifeless, featureless room.

A tall shadow entered, apparently trying hard not to make a noise. Still, Legolas heard it all too loud. The man sat down on a chair right next to a bed. He made efforts to reach out for a cold hand lying on a white sheet. Trembling, he put his hands back into his coat pockets. Soon it found comfort in the warmth and isolation of the coat.

" I'm so sorry, Charlotte."

Legolas's brow went up.

" I should've been more careful."

Feeling a strong curiosity coursing through his veins, the immortal wanted to burst through the plywood door and demand an explanation. Had Greg, Charlotte's partner, shot her by accident? Did he by chance shoot her in a risky attempt to kill a criminal who was holding her hostage? Did he fail to cover her while she was taking point? What in Angband happened?

" No matter what you say, think or do, you're still an amateur to me. It's not that I don't like you or don't trust your skills. If you weren't so drunk that night…if you weren't…"

Greg's voice trailed off. Legolas reminisced that night when he revealed the truth about his identity. That must have been a night of total confusion and chaos for Charlotte. How could one accept such a cataclysmic statement as the truth in a world of supposed rationality and logic? It must've sounded like a fantastic dream in her intoxicated state.

" …If you weren't so drunk, this would be all different. I would've told you what happened that night and everything would've been okay."

Greg reached forth and squeezed Charlotte's hand. A twang in his chest made him let go. The cool hand plopped on the snow-white sheet. More like guilt than pain, Greg didn't want to touch Charlotte again. He didn't know why, but a feeling told him to just leave her the way she was. She appeared so peaceful like Sleeping Beauty in the bleached hospital white, glowing in the filtered moonlight. Something about this picture bothered Legolas.

In disquiet of the darkness and ominous moonlight, the Elf thought, ' what more proof does the world need to brand me the personification of pure misfortune and woe?'

He leaned a little against the wall beside him, witnessing the world through an awry view of eyes. Plagued by a different kind of guilt, Legolas silently and morosely stared at the moonlit whiteness. Greg seemed to have finally summoned enough courage to take Charlotte's hand in his again. He held them tightly and warmly with his own two hands, keeping them close to his face lying on the side of the bed. The Elf in the shadow saw this and realized what had transpired in his absence. There was no need for words. It was all there in the interlaced fingers. Now Legolas felt a new kind of guilt. What it was exactly, he didn't know.

Legolas's peculiar blue eyes glittered in the black darkness. He had been watching Greg and Charlotte for half an hour now, feeling his heartbeat slowly synchronize with the heart monitor. The deafening silence overtook him, numbing his mind and senses for the time being. Lost in a pool of bygone memories, the Elf wondered at the life he lost the day he sailed away from the charming shores of Valinor. He remembered the faces he had left behind: his family, his friends, his comrades, and his kin. Looking at Greg and Charlotte, he missed them all the more.

It also made him wonder why he left such a paradise in the first place. One reason could have been that he could never settle on one thing since Gimli passed away. The last of his friend possible of interaction was taken from him and no one from his dear Fellowship was left, save Gandalf. Even he seemed to have disappeared from within Valinor. There seemed to be nothing worth staying for, save his family.

This type of situation always seemed to call for a generous serving of self-discipline and deep reflection. The irony was that he never resolved anything. The answer always seemed near, but some force like a divine intervention seized it away, snatching victory from jaws of conquest.

Then suddenly, he seemed to have pilfered a small triumph from that strange force. Small, but enough for the moment, the triumph consisted of only the words _divine_ _intervention_. Before he could reflect on the connections and consequences, his mind numbed again with a flood of bittersweet memories. Even if only for a second, Legolas had tasted and savored success. Nothing else seemed sweeter than the taste of victory.

. . . . . . .

A/N: I know, don't laugh! Bond sounds stupid, but I actually know a guy whose name is Bond! I wanted it to start with "Bo" and have a pretty good meaning, but the only one that could've been used was a Russian name. That wouldn't go at all with "Farrel," now, would it? I know I was late in updating again, so I apologize. Life is hell, that's all I'll say. Please, please review! Let me know you're still reading!

Please Review!


	20. Fight in the Dark

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Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

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Warning: Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (?), and quite a bit of violence.

-- I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are... --

-- :: Words in between two colons:: are in Elvish (Sindarin) --

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A/N:

pretty foot -- Don and his Forte Conglomerate was introduced and developed in some of the earlier chapters. I forget which, having lost the files on my computer, but they explain who Don is and what sort of background he comes from.

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Moralinde -- I know that was kinda risky, adding more character to the already-large repertoire of characters, but I thought, 'What the heck! It's still not as much as Tolkien's and I really need these!' …So, yeah. I don't know if anyone noticed yet, but some of the new ones were warranted.

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.......

Four Days Later…

" Here, I'll get that for you."

A middle-aged nurse offered her arms to grab the plastic bag that held the toiletry. It wasn't handed over.

" I'll go get the door."

" No."

Feeling a little irritated by the constant refusals, the nurse muttered "fine" under her breath and left the room.

No sooner did the patient feel some guilt for her coarseness. Guilt made her swallow hard. She winced in pain, but didn't do anything to soothe the pain. Underneath the snow-white, sterile bandage around her neck, a rather fresh scab shifted over the rippling muscle. If it weren't for the seriousness of her wound, she would've tore off the bandage and clawed at the throbbing flesh.

Detective Norwood took a weak step forward. After a sigh, she continued on towards the glass door with the plastic bag clutched tightly in her hand.

When she arrived at the main entrance of the hospital, Charlotte stood mindlessly amidst the multitude of patients, visitors, nurses, and doctors. Her hearing was muffled by her loose hair. Figures passed by quickly, but she could see their faces. None were familiar, but there was a feeling that someone was looking at her from a distance. Surveying the enormous room, she searched for a pair of eyes looking into her own. After a time, she found one.

Shaded, but lucid, the blue eyes seemed to hold much more than such small things ever could. Charlotte didn't bother to signal that she had recognized them, but walked lifelessly towards the doors. In a few moments, she reached the doors and they slid open. A gust of cool wind blew at her face, clearing it of any renegade locks of brown strands. A hand was thrust to her, offering to take the bag she was holding. The young detective's hand twitched at first in refusal, but reluctantly yielded her belongings.

Charlotte opened her mouth as if to say something, but Legolas cut in.

" Don't speak," he said.

Before she could start again, the elven prince pointed to a cab waiting some distance away. A head crowned with a golden ponytail peeped from a backseat window, topped with a baseball cap. Legolas helped Charlotte in beside Haldir and sat in the front seat himself.

****

.

" Welcome back, Miss Norwood," the twins chanted in unison.

Elrohir and Elladan bowed to Charlotte as she entered. She nodded her head and continued to trudge her way to her room. Nothing seemed changed while she was gone, though short time it was. She almost wished it was. She wanted everything to change so as to make the past seem like a wild, fantastic dream.

Legolas followed Charlotte into her bedroom and placed her belongings beside the bed. He could guess her thoughts as she stood by the window, gazing out into the dusky sky of New York City. She probably had much more on her mind that she could probably sort through in one night, so she was getting an early start on things. The sooner she could figure out exactly what happened that day and be briefed on how things went with her immortal guests, the sooner Charlotte could focus on the here and now.

" How's your neck and shoulder?"

The bullet had grazed her neck around the jugular and had pierced her shoulder. The local anesthetic had numbed her somewhat fresh shoulder wound, but her neck was still throbbing despite the anesthesia. One night she looked at both of her wound and found them more gruesome that she thought. It was nothing like the abrasions she had on her face the first time she met Legolas. That was nothing, but this seemed like it would leave a hideous mark on her forever.

Charlotte whispered, " tell me what happened."

She didn't want to talk about her pain and that was alright with Legolas.

" Where do you want me to begin?"

" Anywhere."

Legolas took a seat near the door, settling himself in a delicate vanity stool. The mirror behind him and Charlotte's back before him, the Elf began the briefing tentatively.

" Well, for one, Haldir, Elrohir, and Elladan have mastered conversational English just yesterday. I also began teaching them the cultures and technologies of the modern Men - excuse the political incorrectness if you mind."

He took a quick glance at her. She hadn't moved.

" That's pretty much it."

Legolas was lying. Although he revealed the truth about Middle-earth and the existence of Elves, he had not told her about the reincarnation of mankind and the war-mongering Gifted. He wasn't sure if she was ready to face another shake up of her beliefs. He hadn't even considered recruiting her for the cause.

" Oh, your partner Greg came by this morning."

Charlotte spun around on her heels and stared at the Elf.

" What did you do?"

" I didn't answer the door."

" Do you think he heard you?"

" Maybe."

She bit her lower lip and turned around to gaze out the window. Greg didn't know when she had been released from the hospital this afternoon. Wondering how many times he tried to visit her at the hospital and at home, and how many times he failed to walk over the threshold, Charlotte played with the edges of the blue and white curtain. It half-covered the window, denying her the rest of the scene within the square frame. All she could see was the red sun setting the sky ablaze with all colors of a brilliant fire. It made the sky look warmer, although she was shivering underneath her wrinkled dress shirt and pants. A ray of light shone through the glass and played with her semi-lucid eyes. It attempted to give her sickly eyes a look of liveliness, but all it did was make them look even more opaque.

Charlotte shaded her eyes, but didn't turn away from the light.

Legolas asked out of the blue, " would you be alright by yourself tomorrow?"

" Hm?"

" I promised to show my friends a bit more of New York. We might be gone all day, or maybe even more."

There was a bit of silence.

" Of course I'll be alright," started Charlotte, " wasn't I alone before you forcibly thrust all of this on me?"

Her smile was askew and it reminded Legolas of the look Gimli wore on his face just before they entered the Fangorn forest together. It was the look of forced happiness - forced because he didn't have much desire to enter the dreary forest. Charlotte's smile was the same, but he wasn't sure why she was discontent. Something to do with this whole 'Elf' business, he supposed, but maybe there was something more to it that he didn't quite get. Maybe it had something to do with what Greg was blabbering about that night at the hospital. Something to do with the two of them…

Forcibly breaking the seemingly useless train of thoughts, the elven prince snapped out of it just in time to find Charlotte yawning behind her hand. He muttered a "good night" and left the room, closing the door tight behind him.

When Legolas sat down beside Haldir in front of the TV, there was a cup of green tea waiting for him.

:: Who is that man, Legolas?:: Asked Elrohir, placing his cup down on the coffee table gently.

The TV displayed a dual image of two businessmen. On one side, an old, bald man stood before a podium and a multitude of reporters. On the other side, a dashing young man sat at the head of a table, speaking to a selective group of reporters. The old man seemed to be losing his composure as the constant flashing irritated him. He was announcing the bankruptcy and sales of his beloved family company to his competitor.

The young man, Don Heath, sat before the camera with an emotionless face. Still, Legolas could see a devious smile in the shallow depths of his eyes. The rest of the Elves could see it all so clearly. They had seen many eyes of evil Men before, but this pair had a different quality. Something was unnatural and they could all see it. Although it was through a modern device incapable of accurate transference of an image, the immortals could see and feel it all: the glint in his eyes, the evil grin in them, and the transportation of an eerily familiar feeling through them. They could have scratched the corneas off of Don's eyes all they wished, but they wouldn't be able put a finger on why they felt that way.

:: Legolas?:: Elladan called Legolas to attention. The blond prince apologized briefly.

:: Who is that young man? He seems to hold much power in his grasp at such a young age,:: Elrohir spoke gravely.

Legolas replied, :: indeed he does. He owns the corporation that holds the most power in the world.::

Haldir asked, :: is it possible that he may be a reincarnation of someone we know? He seems to be a great man in holding such power over his fellow beings, yet he has made no move to take over the world.::

Rudely, but unintentionally, Legolas laughed. Haldir raised a brow at his junior, and Legolas bowed his head apologetically at his senior. The twins just glanced at each other, but returned their eyes to the Sindar.

:: Forgive me, Haldir, it was completely unintentional. The fact of the matter is, his possession of wealth and influence is the modern equivalent to tyranny of the Old Arda. In this new world, few of the monarchies, few as they are, actually has any power over the government. The leaders of this brave new world are the elected officials and the potent business leaders. If you convert Don Heath's position into those of Middle-earth, he is practically Sauron or Morgoth himself.::

Haldir, Elrohir, and Elladan all glanced at the still-image of Don on the TV. They closed their eyes, whispered a few words, and then looked at the still-image again.

Legolas continued, :: Don Heath is definitely a menace to society, but I feel something else. I don't know what it is, but something about him is more fearful than the fact that he is a tyrant.::

Elladan uttered articulately, :: perhaps it is that intuition of yours that set this mission in motion.::

:: Perhaps,:: Legolas whispered in return.

****

.

****

Intuition…it is not intuition if Ilúvatar chooses what should be revealed to me and what should be hidden. The One left me in the dark and I cannot find my way out. I am to fight an invisible enemy against my will, not knowing why I was thrust into this black abyss in the first place. Let light enter into this darkness. Let it show the evil before me and let it show who stand beside me in this fight. I have come this far on my own; let me understand your will.

****

.

Mr. Heath sat pale-faced at the side of his bed, stiff as a corpse. The phone had dropped from his hand to the ground. The lone lamp lit his face in a creepy way so that his shock and fear were magnified.

" Cat got your tongue? Come on, man, speak."

Don blinked madly and tried to regain his composure. With considerable difficulty, he found his voice.

" What…what the hell are you doing here? How'd you get in?"

" What kind of a greeting is that? I was expecting something more along the line of 'how are ya? I haven't seen you in a while.'"

Don watched the dark figure walk across the length of his New York apartment, seemingly hesitant as to where he should take a seat. The stranger chose a chair beside the bed, placing his feet up on the foot of the bed. He took out a cigarette and lit it, all in the darkness of his location.

" You want one?" He asked.

" No. Those things kill you."

The stranger chuckled. He said, " that's funny, coming from you. You drink and smoke cigars; you even own several manufacturers that makes those man-made killers." He breathed in deep and slowly exhaled a grey stream of smoke. " What's a little toxin and carbon monoxide to beings dying since the moment they were born?"

" Some of us would like to make something of our finite lives."

" More like find a way to live forever. Any luck concocting an elixir?"

" There's been progress."

" Ah, the controversial research both sides would like to debate to death. Can't you accept the fact that death is death? If there was a loophole, you'd think someone would've found it already."

" We're getting there, I told you."

" _Please_!"

There was an awkward moment of silence. The young CEO took this opportunity to put the phone back on the table and took a nervous glance at his unexpected guest.

" Seriously, what do you want?"

" 'Seriously,' Don, take it easy. I'm enjoying my smoke."

Don would've choked him if he could. It drove him nuts when this man always put off the focus of their conversation or meeting. The endless, taunting distractions and randomness were enough to make him run off a cliff.

" I have a board meeting early tomorrow morning," hinted Don.

" And _I_ have a Russian roulette to tend to at 5:00 AM. Funny story," the man started as he leaned forward in excitement. As he prepared to tell his 'funny' story, Don cut him off.

" I don't care. What do you want?"

His guest glared at him, but decided to let the act of insolence pass this time. Instead of recounting the 'funny' story that led to the Russian roulette execution, he cut to the chase. He said, " you've grown some nerve, I'll tell you that. While you're trying to find the rest of your manhood, I need you to actually _do_ something this time other than furnishing money and supplies. It won't botch your current or future career, so don't worry. All I need you to do is to keep an eye on one little thing. It's not even much of a task, really. It's more like a fun little game for you to play while I go for the bigger fish."

The man rose and flicked the short cigarette butt down on the plush carpet. After giving it a good grind with the heel of his boots, the shadowed man looked out the half-curtained full-length window.

" You play this type of game all the time, I know, so you'll enjoy it."

Don tried to ask him to clarify, but his unwelcome visitor cut him off with the strange words, " remember this - Central Park, tomorrow during lunch break. You _will_ enjoy it, trust me."

Just as Don felt the urge to scream obscenities at the top of his lungs, the nuisance of a guest had disappeared into the thin air. Only the cigarette butt was left on the carpet, not quite burning the expensive carpet.

" Damn that bastard."

****

.......

A/N: Very belated Happy Halloween! Ah, I had a great time this year around! I hope you did too, because it's the only chance when you get to dress up uber-ridiculously and get away with it. …And candies. Can't forget _that_. Yum…(_drools_) Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter because it took me a long time to write it and cost me lots of work time. I'm so sorry for the delay. I would've updated faster if I could've. Would've, should've, could've, but didn't - I know…shame on me. I'll give you an imaginary cookie for the imaginative soul…alrighty then? Btw, tell your soul I said hi. I'll be coming back for it later…(_smirk_)(_grows horns_)…bwahaha! Er, never mind.

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Please Review!


	21. Walk in a Park, Drink in a Bar

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning:** Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (?), and quite a bit of violence.

-- I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are... --

-- :: Words in between two colons:: are in Elvish (Sindarin) --

* * *

:: Have you told her how long we will be gone?:: asked Elladan. He helped Elrohir put in the last of their luggage into the cab trunk. 

:: No,:: Legolas replied concisely. He was in the front passenger seat already, buckled and ready to go. Likewise was Haldir in the backseat, zipping up and down his jacket for no apparent reason. He said, :: I do not know why, but I will somehow miss that television.::

He had been watching that devilishly fun and mysterious TV almost too much. There were so many interesting things on all channels, but he especially enjoyed the History and the Discovery channels. It was much easier than perusing through stacks of history books. Every now and then, he also watched the curiously interesting entertainment shows. It was quite difficult to let go of the remote control sometimes.

Charlotte stood beside the cab some steps away, cringing her face somewhat at the unpleasant carbon monoxide from the car. She had practically emptied her house and wallet of all of the cash she held. Even her secret emergency stash in her library had been exposed to the world, making her feel financially insecure. No more unnecessary indulgences, yes, indeed. No more movies, no more shopping, no more anything.

" Call me if you need anything," she muttered.

Legolas replied, " if you don't receive a call, then assume that all is well."

" The proverbial 'no news is good news.' Alright. Don't waste your money."

" I never had a liking for junk food anyhow."

The twins entered the cab and buckled up, waving at Charlotte. She waved back, smiling. Haldir joined and waved respectfully. Legolas dipped his head as a farewell, then turned right back to give directions to the driver. Still waving, Charlotte watched the yellow cab drive away.

By the time she closed her apartment door behind her, the empty space seemed too quiet and still. Although she disliked the strain on her limited economy and attention, Charlotte had to admit she kind of missed those immortals. They had become a soothing, pleasant part of her life that seemed almost as good as a cup of good green tea. It wasn't anything like an artificially induced comfort like those from an oddly scented candle or a slice of sweet cake. Their presence was more like a hot bath or the scent of air after a heavy rainfall.

' Ha…I'm actually _missing_ them.'

She sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. It was set on some odd local channel that she never bothered to watch. It was playing an allergy medicine commercial, showing a little boy sneezing and rubbing his eyes in a beautiful park. After a shot of the 'miracle' pill, the boy was off and running around happily as if nothing had ever happened.

' I wish there was something like that for adults.'

The young detective turned off the TV and stared at the black screen for a moment. She tapped the plastic remote control with her fingertips, drumming a cadence. For no reason she could think of, Charlotte went to her room to change.

* * *

It was 12:30 in Central Park. Don Heath was seated on a bench under a tree, drinking a cup of coffee even more expensive than Starbucks. His chauffeur leaned against the car, eating a hotdog with everything on it. The young CEO looked around, wondering what in hell he was supposed to find. Everything about it was as common as a picture on a calendar. He tossed his empty paper cup into the trashcan and rested his arms on the back of the bench. 

Don leaned his head back and closed his eyes. If that bastard spoke of what Don thought he spoke of, then he wouldn't really have to do anything. His target would come to him.

Minutes passed by. Nothing changed. His lunch break was nearly over.

Out of the blue, a woman shrieked from some distance away. Don snapped open his eyes and looked to his left. A shady man was running with a woman's purse in hand, running towards his direction. No one bothered to catch the guy, knowing they were too slow or they didn't want to get hurt trying to be a good Samaritan. Don kept watching and calculated that stretching one leg forward would be sufficient enough to trip the purse-snatcher. He closed his eyes and waited for the moment, hearing the sound of footsteps grow larger and larger.

The crook was near, Don could tell. He thrust his foot forward.

There was a sound of a body tumbling violently onto the ground. Despite that, he looked down in fury. The crook had never touched his foot.

About seven yards away to his left, the crook was struggling to get up. He swung the purse at the head of the good Samaritan straddled on top of him. He screamed curse words at the top of his lungs, throwing fists and kicking aggressively like a maniac. The good Samaritan blocked the blow with one arm while trying to twist the crook's arm. The purse-snatcher squirmed his way onto his feet and took couple steps forward. The do-gooder swung a leg around almost 360 degrees, tripping the crook. Then leaping at the felon before he could get up, the seemingly experience Samaritan twisted both arms behind the guy's back and pressed both wrists down with a knee while wrestling the purse from the grappling fingers.

" Stay down if you don't want to get hurt!"

The purse-snatcher refused to give up and kept struggling. The owner of the brown purse ran up, took back her purse and thanked her savior.

" Thank you _so_ much! Thank you _sooo_ much!"

When the good Samaritan grabbed the guy's twisted arms and forced him to stand up, Don suddenly understood the enigma of his supernaturally annoying friend. This might turn out fun after all.

" What the hell were you thinking, robbing people in Central Park at broad daylight!?"

The crook offered no explanation, but tugged at his arms twisted by his captor. He stopped when he saw the neat, clean wingtips of an expensive Italian leather shoes.

" May I help you there, Miss?"

There was no need for Don to put on his trademark smile now. He was smiling naturally from the image permanently imprinted in his mind from few seconds ago.

Two uniformed cops came running and took the crook away within a flash. Now Don stood just staring at the woman before him, finally realizing what his pestering friend meant earlier this morning.

" You know, I didn't think I'd find such altruistic ladies unafraid to risk injuries in this time of age," Don joked to the woman when she straightened her back. The woman said nothing, but smiled unenthusiastically.

" Don't stop your search for Princess Charming yet - I'm a detective."

Don laughed. ' A good sense of humor, quite athletic, and that country-girl face - all in the makings of a very fun hunt,' he thought. " That's even better. It's nice to know I'm being looked after by such dedicated officers of the law."

This was all so interesting and new to Don. He had just entered a whole new arena. This wasn't some fancy Olympic arena with security guards - this was a Colosseum for a Gladiator to chase a real beast, no holds barred.

" I'm forgetting my manners! My name is Don Heath," he hinted casually at his well-known identity. " May I ask what is yours?"

That shocked her. She knew she had seen that face somewhere, but now she realized it was from the news, tabloids, and the papers. " Charlotte Norwood."

" Ah…Miss Norwood. Your name is lovely."

Charlotte raised a brow. What was a guy like him doing in a place like this at this time? And why was he greasing his words? Wasn't he romantically linked to some actress or model or something? Or was she just paranoid and conceited in her thought that a billionaire like Don Heath would actually grease his words for someone like her?

Before she could restrain her mouth, she blurted, " have a nice day." Walking away, Charlotte began dusting the dirt from her jeans and palms.

Don suddenly felt invigorated by this odd form of rejection. This wasn't anything like pursuing actresses and models because he never had to _chase_ after any woman before. They all came to him, but this one was playing hard to get - although it was apparent that it was not her intention to do so. Nevertheless, this actually required a challenge. This young woman threw the silver platter _at_ him rather than being served _on_ it.

Nevertheless, he knew it the best course of action would be to let her alone for the moment. Her curiosity would drive her crazy until she would accept any offer for drinks or dinners. At least, that's how it worked with his ex-girlfriends.

' I don't know why _he_ thinks you're important enough to keep distracted, but at least you don't seem to be a waste of my time, Charlotte Norwood.'

Don watched Charlotte walk away, wondering what relationship she could possibly have with the Gifted that was worth enough to have the President of Forte Conglomerate distract her from their activities. She was a detective, so did that mean she was possibly on their trail? Was he supposed to kill her in the end? What was he supposed to do, exactly, other than distracting her?

He exhaled slowly and turned away, walking towards his limousine that was ready to leave the park.

* * *

Legolas put his hand on the phone, but took it off the next moment. Standing in a phone booth, the Elf pondered his next course of action. 

The four Elves had arrived in the upper New York area, all settled down in a motel. Legolas left the twins and former March Warden in the room while he was out here. It was a serene scene that surrounded him. Silent and still, this little area was situated some miles away from a cluster of luxurious mansions.

The Elf walked out of the phone booth and looked around. There was a diner next to a gas station right across the street. There was a bar a block or so away. That's all there was. A motel, a diner, a gas station, a bar, and homes of those who operated these establishments. It was a pretty simple and small area, but there were a lot of cars by the bar. They weren't some regular automobiles that belonged to the people who lived here. They were high-end sports cars and luxury sedans.

' Porsche, Bentley, Ferrari…something's up.'

He tugged at his hood to cover up his face. Now his fair elven face was darkened and covered by a pair of dark sunglasses, unrecognizable by anyone save his fellow Elves. Striding leisurely across the empty road, Legolas walked up between the luxury cars and into the shady bar.

When he entered inconspicuously amongst the throng of people, Legolas wondered how these people could stay in this small building without suffocating. The small wooden building housed more people than it was meant to accommodate. Most of the people stood due to the lack of chairs or stools, but they didn't seem to mind. There was tobacco and cigar smoke filling the empty space above their heads, blurring everything about them. The clanking of glasses, footsteps, music, and voices deafened the Elf's sensitive ears. It was impossible to find an empty space at the bar - or anywhere else, as a matter of fact - but he managed to order a bottle of beer.

Legolas stood amongst the throng of people without a clue as to what these lavishly dressed people were doing here. He tried to listen in on their conversations, but none seemed substantial enough to consider it a clue. They were talking about things like cars, women, men, money, and business. They were quite boring to Legolas, so he decided to enjoy his bottle of cold beer.

No matter how many times he drank this stuff, he could never get used to it. It was unpleasant in comparison to the standards of elvish drinks. While he reminisced about the sweet and clear drinks of the Elves, he felt his coat being pulled on at the sleeve. Legolas turned to his side and found an arm bedecked with pricey jewels. There were gold bracelets at the wrist and diamond rings on the fingers. The French tipped nails glistened in the dim light. His eyes ran up the arm and connected it to a face framed in wavy blonde hair.

" What?" He exclaimed softly.

" Sit beside me," said the woman. There was an empty seat on the other side of her.

" Thanks."

Legolas sat down comfortably and sipped his drink. Perhaps he could learn from this woman what was going on.

She said, " it's a little silly to wear your sunglasses in a dark building."

Smiling, he took off his sunglasses and pulled back his hood. The woman gasped softly when she saw his long blonde hair tucked inside his jacket. She ran her hand through it, bringing her face close to his.

" You have lovely hair," she whispered into his ear. " Are you an artist? A farm boy? I don't suppose you're a model."

" No. I'm a farm boy. But I'm trying to make it as a model."

It was a lie, of course, but people had asked him that question so many times that he decided upon 'a farm boy trying to make it as a model' as his permanent answer. Then again, he didn't feel all too well about offering that answer to this woman. She began curling his hair around her fingers.

" _Really_? Well, I think you ought to land a nice deal with your face and hair alone!"

" Thanks."

" I'm Josie."

" Lewis."

Josie finished her drink and ordered two more, one for her and one for 'Lewis.' She now stopped playing with his hair, but she certainly didn't stop gawking over his fresh, boyish allure.

" So, what did you do at your farm?"

" Anything that was my share."

" What made you wanna be a model?"

" Everything to do with it."

Frankly, Legolas was getting tired of Josie's questions. It was obvious she was drunk and probably would be an unreliable source of information. Perhaps there was someone else in there who wasn't tipsy.

" I know some people who can help you, Lewis."

Josie put her hand on his knee.

" Really?"

" Yeah. Photographers, designers, modeling agency recruiters…you name it. I can get you their numbers," she said as she moved her mouth to his ear. Josie whispered, " I can make you a big celebrity." She then began moving her hand up, but Legolas stopped it.

" I think you had enough drinks, Josie."

He removed her hand and moved her drink away. Just before things were about to turn sour, some woman came over and took her towards another table full of drunk women. Legolas sighed in relief, wanting absolutely no trouble. He was even more relieved when he overheard two men talking about an execution of a betrayer that occurred this morning. Right away, the Elf could tell it wasn't just some drunken slurring. It was real and the death was real. Death by Russian Roulette, Legolas overheard.

" Deserved it too, that asshole! He should've killed himself in jail like he swore with the oath, not break out and risk revealing everything!"

This caught Legolas's attention like an old-fashioned steel bear trap. Three days ago, there was a jail breakout that raised up hell until the police lost all track of the suspect. If he remembered correctly, as if he could make a mistake, it was the same man who shot Charlotte five days ago. If these people were a part of that man's execution, then…

…Were these people the Gifted?

Legolas could feel his blood simmering slowly, building up heat in his body. Since the dawn of time for the reincarnated mankind, he had been fight the Gifted to keep safe those who had no supernatural powers. Now, after tens of thousands of years, the Elf sat amongst a room full of the very people he had been trying to track for all this time. This was a sign. He had to make a pivotal move now or lose this perfect chance forever.

But what about the Elves and his original plan? He couldn't abandon it now.

* * *

It took him a long time to decide, but Legolas still wasn't sure if his choice was the best one. The elvish prince thought the newcomer Elves knew enough to return to New York City if he told them to do so, but his primary goal of this little trip would be abandoned. Despite that, he thought this sort of opportunity couldn't be wasted. As the saying goes, _carpe diem_. 

Legolas tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He couldn't tell why they kept drinking in this little bar for so long, but he tried his best to survey his surrounding and figure out who to follow. All were dressed like they were rich and famous, but there seemed to be a man standing out above all. He sat in a corner table with an entourage mainly composed of other men like him and beautiful women. They didn't seem to consume much alcohol in volume, but they certainly were chugging the expensive kind.

This man was dressed in a lavish suit with some ice around his neck and fingers. He had on an expensive Rolex on his left wrist, but apparently no wedding ring. The man was obviously well-groomed with a certain air of an established playboy. In retrospect, he wasn't anywhere near the tricky veteran Don Heath, but he was close. He had several scantily clad women at either side of him, all drinking expensive shots of the best bottles in the house, all cooing and flirting with the man. He didn't seem to pay much attention to them, but was rather having some serious conversation with the two men to his right. Legolas could guess that it had something to do with the execution.

It was almost nauseating, if he ever felt such a thing before, to see so many drunken Gifted acting as if they had the world in their hands. There was complete disregard for common decency. How could they possibly assume that they had any special privilege that their brethren, the Ungifted, did not have?

In this moment of internal insurgence, Legolas was unprepared - not caught off-guard, being an Elf that he was - to feel a vaguely familiar hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw Josie resting her arm on his shoulder. She was quite drunk, her face flushed to a rose-shade. Josie had a pen in her other hand and leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder.

" You know, I think you've got some real _potential_."

Legolas gave a bitter smile as he took another sip from his beer. She then took his free hand and wrote a ten digit number on the back of his hand.

" Call me, cutie."

She gave him a kiss on his silky hair and left, going back to her girlfriends to drink more whiskey on the rocks. Legolas took a long look at the scrawled blue numbers. This was another sign. He didn't have to feel bad after all. Let the bigger fish live to catch it another day.

As the Elf finished his drink, he thought to himself, ' another step closer to revelation and revolution!'

He paid for his drink and quietly snuck out of the rowdy bar. Legolas turned around to take a good look at the bar once again. The abominable tangle of fate was finally becoming unraveled.

* * *

**A/N:** Long time no update, sorry, but this one's pretty long, so… How'd ya like it? I hope you enjoyed, or dreaded, Legolas's little uncomfortable situation there. I'm pretty sure if he was real, or Orly for that matter, girls would be all over him, literally in a dog pile… Please drop a review, thanks! 

**Please Review!**


	22. Of Friendship Reforged

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning: **Some cuss words, some 'light' make-out scenes (?), and quite a bit of violence.

-- I'm sure you know what bolds, italics, and underlines are... --

-- :: Words in between two colons:: are in Elvish (Sindarin) --

**A/N: **Side note to Kelsey Estel…Josie was really, _really_ drunk. She voluntarily gave her number to Leggy in order to seduce him. I'm sorry if it came off otherwise, but Leggy just seized the rare opportunity, not used her.

Side note to Kelsey Estel…Josie was really, drunk. She voluntarily gave her number to Leggy in order to seduce him. I'm sorry if it came off otherwise, but Leggy just seized the rare opportunity, not used her.**

* * *

**" Pretty good for your first day back, Charlotte. See you tomorrow." 

Charlotte waved at her new partner and massaged her the back of her neck as she entered the women's locker room. Yes, it was her first day back on the force, but it felt all the same. Apparently Greg had been assigned a new rookie during her absence. She was assigned to another veteran and it was better that way. She didn't need to ask Greg anything anymore. The night in question was still bothering her, but the young detective guessed that she probably vomited in his car or some other embarrassing thing. It was done and over with, so there was no point in annoying him with it.

When she sat down on the wooden bench in front of her locker, she yelped softly from the coldness. Charlotte took off her shoes, rubbed her aching feet a little, then she opened her locker. It was pretty much empty save for her clothes, shoes, purse, and a little white envelope taped to the locker door. Her name was written neatly across the white surface with a little flourish at the end. Hesitantly, maybe shaking a little from the cold, the detective untapped it from the locker and opened the envelope. A white and gold card peeked from the inside, inviting her to read its content.

Suddenly, she wasn't sure if she wanted to open it. If it was another rambling about her return and "get well soon" crap, she didn't want to read it. Even worse, she didn't want to read it if was from Greg. She was sure he might be a little unstable. After all, she did avoid him during all the days off for her injury.

What was he expecting from her anyhow? Greg always treated her like a little girl who couldn't take care of her self even if her life depended on it. And what was up with the constant phone calls? He didn't have to say anything, but she knew it was him from the irregular breathing on the other end. If he was feeling guilty for her injury, he should've just come out and say what was on his mind. If…if it was about the other night, she didn't want to know anymore. It wasn't that big of a deal anymore. She was drunk and he dropped her off home soon. Nothing happened. She didn't care anymore.

' What the hell!'

Charlotte opened the fancy card and slowly scanned over the hand-written words. Her heart jumped when she finished reading. Shoving the card back into the envelope and changing into her civilian clothes, Detective Norwood grabbed her bag and jogged out of the locker room. When she went into the lobby, she could tell through the glass doors that it was raining pretty heavily outside. She pressed her hands against the glass wall as she searched the rain-filled, dark streets. Sure enough, there was a black umbrella in the middle of the sidewalk.

Inadvertently, Charlotte ran out into the rain without an umbrella. Rain soaked through and through as she stood before the umbrella and lifted it to see the face underneath. She quickly hid her disappointment from face and eyes.

" How are you?" The person asked.

" Good."

It was Don Heath who stood before Charlotte, moving the umbrella over to shield her from the rain. She wiped a few drops of rain from her face, fully aware that despite what she just did, she was still ridiculously wet. He smiled.

" You look like you could use a cup of warm coffee," he said.

Charlotte couldn't help but ask, " why are you here?"

Smiling a little, taking his time, Don pulled the coat collar closer about his neck. He whispered, " I couldn't stop thinking about you all day."

" Don't joke with me, I'm not in the mood."

" Would you believe me if I said I wasn't?"

Charlotte had a hard time trusting any words that came from his mouth. It wasn't so much that she was afraid to let anything good happen to her -- she couldn't recognize it from the bad so that all chances were lost. This time she decided to just plunge in head first, no matter if this was good or bad. She couldn't keep life on hold until she was ready. Life was going to happen anyway, with or without her.

" Maybe."

The chauffeur opened the door to the limousine and Don helped her in. As Charlotte entered the car with Don's helping hand, Greg caught an unmistakable glimpse of her as he exited his car.

* * *

Legolas relaxed his tight fist as he spat out the words, " and that's the truth. That is who you were in your former life and what you stood for. You may or may not believe it, but it's the truth." 

Where most would sit wide-eyed and gape silently, Andrew Earl-Harris meditated in the silence of his mansion with his eyes veiled with his eyelashes. Elrohir, Elladan, Legolas, and Haldir did not say a word as they carefully watched him. All they had to say was done and over with. The only left was to wait patiently for an answer from the one they had not seen for tens of thousands of years. The familiar face, hands, and aura were right in front of them. If it weren't for their current physical surroundings, they would have thought it was just another day in the Third Age of a world long ago. It was a pity they had to reunite under this sort of dreary circumstances.

" Anyone in this world would brand you all madmen," began Andrew, " but my heart believed every word as you spoke them. I don't know how I can sit here calmly and act in this manner, but I suppose that's a sign that your words are the truth." He covered his face for a moment as he sighed heavily. " All of this seem like a dream, but it doesn't feel so. A part of me recognized the very soul inside you. All of you. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am…I trust you guys."

The Elves smiled and laughed, overcome with joy that they found their long-lost friend. Although it would be a while before Andrew -- or rather Aragorn -- would become used to the re-forged friendship, the immortals knew he would be himself again in the end…Aragorn.

" There is still a mystery that eludes me," spoke Aragorn. " If all you said are true, how could I possibly be of any service to immortal beings such as your selves? I may possess some skills as you say, but not enough to be of significant aid."

Haldir replied with an understanding smile. " You see, we do not _exist_ in this world of Men, so we are able to things even more discreetly than secret agents. The drawback is that we cannot attack high profile Gifted at all times. You can imagine how impossible it would be to achieve missions successfully and quickly."

" _That_," Elrohir continued, " is where you come in, dear Aragorn. You, as a politician, can use almost any means that we cannot use. In your position, you cannot go and fight like us, but you can do things we 'non-existent' beings cannot do."

" I don't follow," said Aragorn. " I thought you said the Gifted hid their identities because their discovery may hinder their plans."

" Yes, but the Gifted are not our only problem," muttered Elladan.

Legolas took the flag as he continued this thread of conversation. " Evil changes with time while good is perpetual, Aragorn. Evil cannot succeed on its own…it needs allies. In order to find allies, evil must change constantly to accommodate the change of time. In order to keep changing, evil cannot become a significant figure in history. If well-known, it would be easier for people to recognize that evil as one from the past. It also means that the ones people recognize as evil humans are only allies of our ultimate enemy."

" All of them?" Asked Aragorn.

" All."

" Then who is the true evil?"

Legolas sighed as he gripped the end of the armrest. " That is yet to be discovered, but I know for sure that our enemy is not anyone mentioned in any lore, textbook, or anything as a matter of fact. It is very clever. Because of reincarnation, it is practically impossible to keep him or her pin pointed. Appearance, age, location, everything…it's impossible."

After the last syllable came a horrid silence only broken by the sound of the vintage grandfather clock. The sounds of Adelaide's feet traveled from the kitchen far away. Aragorn knew that she was wondering what was going on here. She was probably pacing the kitchen floor while the chef was making the dinner. Their children would be completely absorbed in some activity at the breakfast nook, coloring or reading. Legolas told him to keep this a secret from everyone he knew if possible, but he wondered what the look on his darling wife's face would be like if he told her she is Arwen Undómiel of Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. What a look his daughters would have if they new they really are princesses as they often expressed they wanted to be! How thrilled Eldon would be if he knew he used to wield a sword mightily as a king! His happy thoughts subsided when he conjured up a guess as to the identity of Mankind's ultimate enemy.

" Um…Legolas…if everyone I presume to be evil are only evil's minions, then what about Donald Heath of Forte Conglomerate?"

That caught the Elf off guard. He was thinking about that man himself just now. Of course, it was just a hunch now, but he was sure it would be confirmed as soon as he resumed his clandestine missions.

" Well, Don certainly holds an extraordinary amount of power, but he's not our target. However, Don is an ally with a connection I'm trying to discover. My guess would be he's the front man for the new campaign for world domination. He's got all of the resources and connections. His position in this society also makes it difficult for opposition to eliminate him easily. Mr. Heath is the perfect forerunner of the movement."

Elladan took a sip of gourmet coffee from the delicate china and watched the reflection play on the warm brown liquid. Like his twin brother and good friends, he was pondering the turn of events that led to this strange world. In Valinor, imagining the world outside was essentially unfeasible. On his way over, amidst the ocean, he and his two companions thought that with luck Men would not have changed anything from the world they left behind in the Fourth Age. Even then they secretly hoped there would be change for the better. If there were no Orcs, Goblins, Trolls, Ringwraiths…and Sauron, the world _had_ to be superior than the one tainted by Morgoth and Sauron. Now that they've seen the history of Men and experienced it for themselves, that hope now appeared to be based on nothing but unstable rubbles of years gone by. It was complex and thorny to compare the two in order to decide which world was worse. The process of comparison wasn't pleasant, and the lack of result made the effort worthless.

Nevertheless, the thought that they still had a chance to save this Earth gave them much needed hope. Even if the forces of good had no chance of success, they would try until the end anyhow. Try, try, try again! As long as Men survive, they still stand a chance against any foe. Mortal or immortal, big or small, any and all evil would never go unopposed.

" To get to the point, the kind of help we need from you is political and public. You must be our spokesperson -- so to speak -- to manage the type of 'warfare' we can't do. You began scratching the surface with the ad campaign you endorsed against Forte Conglomerate, but we need more than that. We can provide information, you can carry out the attacks. Basically, you'll be _our_ front man like Don is for evil," concluded Legolas.

Aragorn nodded as he finally grasped the reason behind this meeting. It was also a nice diversionary tactic also. Don would be so irritated by the attack on his character that he may lower his guards behind the scenes. It seemed like a good step towards the accomplishment of this mission. Aragorn exuded confidence as he exclaimed, " count me in!"

* * *

Greg looked up at the blank ceiling as he tried to imagine sheep jumping over wooden fences. Counting sheep never worked before, but he thought he'd give it a try. He was desperate now. It was 1:30 in the morning and anything would be better than wondering what the hell was going on with Char. 

So many times Greg tried to talk to Char during her time off, but he failed in all attempts. Either he couldn't summon enough courage or she wasn't there. Even if Char was home all those times, she obviously didn't want to talk to him. He was pretty sure she was pissed off at him for not answering her freaking question, so he finally decided to tell her that he loved her. Just when he really was going to carry out his decisions, the rest of the world was trying to screw him over. Greg hated his timing. He always had terrible timing.

What was with Char now? Just because he wouldn't tell her something, she just goes into some guy's limo to get back at him? Donald Heath at that? That rich playboy obviously had a nasty intent, Greg was sure. Why would a guy like him have any interest in any average woman? Shouldn't Don be making his way into a tabloid with a bleached-blonde twit?

" Grr!"

Greg snapped upright and pulled on his hair. He threw the sheets aside with fury and shook his head like a psychotic freak. When the childish tantrum subsided, Greg felt like he was back in high school or something again. He was insanely jealous over a woman he didn't even know if she liked him back or not. It probably had nothing to do with him, or maybe it did, but Greg felt like Char was cheating on him like his ex-wife cheated on him. He hadn't even kissed her once!

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was just irritable and frustrated because he hadn't gotten any for some time now. Maybe it was as simple as that.

**

* * *

****A/N:** Just note that Andrew/Aragorn will now be referred to by both names. Don't get confused now!

Please Review!


	23. Reconnaissance

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning:** You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22.

**A/N:** I tried to update before a month passed by, and here it is! I know it's bad to keep updates so separated, but I can't help it. Well, enjoy this chapter!

**

* * *

**With help and cooperation from Andrew, also known as Aragorn, Legolas used his computer to hack into Josie's cellular phone company's database to track down the location of her latest phone call. When the address was confirmed and memorized, the Elves prepared for departure. Given specific instructions, Aragorn waved his new friends good-bye with some skepticism. The Elves' plan seemed like something that would come out of a movie, but he was pretty sure they knew what they were doing. After all, Legolas knew enough to hack into large corporation's database. He couldn't offer much help anyhow without proper tech, gear, and recon. 

Some distance away from the village of multimillion dollar mansions, a pair of railroad tracks lay semi-hidden within scanty grove of old trees. The Elves arrived at the grove by feet, biding their time as the sun began to set. Legolas stared at his watch and anticipated the passing of a supply train. His plan was to simply jump onto the moving train and ride until the train tracks neared his destination. It sounds simple enough, but the problem was getting past security, if there is any. He didn't doubt the presence of sentries around the premises, but he just wasn't sure what short of powers the Gifted guards had.

From faraway the furious sound of the train came like a cry of a beast. All four Elves prepared to make a jump, not knowing if good timing would be on their side. Jumping off of a moving train might not have been bad, but jumping _on_ to a train was never heard of at this speed. Still, they made a leap of faith one by one, somehow managing success against the odds. It could be said that fate was on their side for the moment, but whether it would stay with them throughout this reconnaissance mission was debatable.

In matter of minutes the Elves could see a large, decrepit, and abandoned warehouse ahead. From what they could tell, it was fenced off with signs to keep off trespassers. It seemed too obvious that it housed illegal activities and criminals of the underworld, but that might have been its cover. Like reverse psychology, no one would expect criminals to stay in a place that obvious. Clever, but risky.

When the track was closest to the warehouse, the Elves jumped off stealthily. Sentries were only posted at the entrance, apparently unaware of strange presence some hundreds of feet away. Even if they could feel the Elves' presence, they wouldn't be able to tell what they were. As far as they could tell the Elves were just really tall pretty boys right off the pages of fashion magazines. As embarrassing as it sounded, that's what they looked like - handsome and conspicuous.

Since this mission was only reconnaissance, the armed immortals could not force their way in through the main entrance. A side door had to be found, but they wondered about security systems. These people would have some sort of system to protect themselves. Legolas contemplated their next move with his friends when a door on a side of the building opened. Two Gifted held brooms in hand as they went around the corner to get rid of the clog in the trash chute that was stinking up the first floor. While the door was left unlocked and the two Gifted grumbled at their task, the Elves ran silently into the building.9;

It was dark, somewhat smelly, and a little dank inside the metal warehouse. They could hear water dripping somewhere, and the light bulb above them flickered. From what they could feel, they weren't standing on solid ground. There was at least another floor beneath them. That came to least four floors they had to search in secrecy. In Legolas's past experience, it was rare to find Gifted who could feel the presence of Elves, but they never knew what it was until they fought him. The odds that someone in this building could recognize Legolas was slim to none, but they couldn't take any risks. Some of these Gifted could live up to two hundred years. The good news was that all Gifted Legolas fought were dead. The bad news, however, was that witnesses of the fights he didn't know about could still be alive and in here.

Without proper communication equipment, the Elves could not split up to cover more grounds in shorter amount of time. Clearly time was of the essence, but they had no other choice. Since they were on the ground floor, they decided to check the basement, then work their way up. It took a while to find the pathway downstairs, but when they found it, it was relatively easy to sneak in. Since there were not that many guards and security system down there, the immortals came to a conclusion that it was largely a storage area that contained supplies and weapons that were negligible. It might have been nice to grab a few things for later use, perhaps in case of a shoot out, but Legolas decided against it.

Haldir took point as the group began making their way about, going up and searching the ground floor. There seemed to be a party or some social event going on in one of the larger room on this floor, booming with deafening music. Elrohir commented at one point that the scent of human liquor was distasteful, especially when all odor blended to form one uncomfortable mixture. After making their way around the floor, they decided that this floor was more reserved for living, dining, and various social events.

Up the stairs they went silently, glad that the party had created an advantageous distraction for them. The Elves checked door to door, finding most empty and full of bedroom furniture. Some apparently were occupied by sleeping forms and rather drunk fools in lust. Nothing seemed to be of importance on this floor except for the locked staircase leading up to the third and final floor. It was not just a plain locked door, but one that seemed like it was of greatest urgency that the highest floor be off-limits to everyone.

: What do you think could be up there: Asked Elladan. He was readying some wires to pick the lock open.

: Perhaps it's a room where they keep documents and plan their activities: commented Haldir. His fingers played on the hilt of his sword. It had been a very long time since he had to use the sword, but he also hoped that it wouldn't come to that too often. The point of having a small team was to do things under cover. If they fought head-to-head, the Gifted would have a certain advantage in numbers. After all, Elves could only do so much.

The lock was easily undone, and the immortals moved stealthily through the dark stairway. At the end of the stairway they found an unlocked wooden door. After determining that the top floor was empty, they entered quietly in hopes of finding something that would aid in toppling the order of the Gifted. When they entered, all was dark save the moonlight peering through the large and dirty windows. Curtains covered all but one of the walls of this floor. It was an open floor with nothing to divide the spacious room. Vintage furniture occupied the open floor, appearing eerie in the moonlit room. It could have been a haunted place, but the lack of cobwebs and broken windows made this place lived-in.

There was a very large bed on one side of the room with dressers and a long mirror. In the middle, there was a long table with several matching chairs. On the other side, there were an antique piano and a large painting that covered half of the wall. It was almost as tall as the wall with heavy and very ornate wooden frame. There were detailed carvings of skulls, mutilated cherubs, demons, vines with thorns, and ruby-eyed snakes. What disturbed them most of all was the subject matter of the painting.

A great battle was portrayed on the gargantuan canvas, more bloody and more terrifying than anyone could possibly imagine.

The subject seemed to be medieval in time period with the perfect execution that made this painting seem as if it was a portal to another world. The lower two thirds of the painting was the battleground; an open field of darkened grass trampled by fierce warriors and littered with unmentionably horrific human body parts. A forest of black trees surrounded them, merging with the dark sky. Black and red clouds covered every inch of the celestial body, real enough to be mistaken for fire, amber, and smoke. In the middle of the ominous sky was a large fire-breathing dragon in the figure C. It's body was made of half-molten metal and steel scales along the back making sharp ridges like the razor teeth of the dragon.

The dragon was breathing fire down upon the battleground, burning both sides of the battle. Some warriors were burning to death while some attempted to fight even when on fire. The rest were in a violent clash of metal and brute strength. Covered in blood of their own and others, warriors staggered and fought lamely from ghastly fatal wounds. There was no two definite sides to this conflict, but there were crests of various families and countries mingled in the battlefield.

What shocked them most of all was the identical expression on the faces of all present in the battle, dead or alive. None had the face of a martyr, saint, or hero. All bore the appearance of inhuman, sadistic, malevolent evil. They had all gone mad as if an unspeakable evil had taken them all and destroyed their souls.

After observing more than they wished to, Elladan and Elrohir turned away, looking for something useful to them. Haldir lowered his head a little as he placed a hand on Legolas's shoulder, frightened more for Mankind than disgusted for himself. Soon he turned away also, aiding the twins in their search. Legolas continued to gaze at the epic portrayal of what might as well as be the chaotic apocalypse Men had been imagining since beginning of their time.

: There seems to be no important documents in this room: commented Elladan. He closed one drawer after another on all of the decorative and functional tables and bureaus. They were filled with antique trinkets and personal items.

Elrohir knotted his brows as he went through the contents of the drawer on the small table beside the bed. There were stacks of paper, parchment and computer paper. He slowly fingered through page by page; his face became more mortified with each page.

: What is the matter: Asked Haldir. He went over to his friend to see what was as alarming as the dreadful painting at the other side of the room. When he beheld the stack of papers, he felt curiosity and revulsion. He beckoned: Legolas! Elladan! Come see this and tell us what you two make of it.:

:Elladan quickly arrived by the bed and went through the pile of rough sketches themselves.

: The Muse of the painting over there, perhaps? Or a lover: Commented Elladan. Haldir seemed to be in concurrence with this suggestion.

Elrohir added to the theory. : Perchance the painting represents the lowest depth of insanity lovers will sink down to in order to attain love unrequited:

: A bit too much, is it not: Elrohir retorted a bit comically.

Legolas quietly arrived beside the table and took his turn through the collection. Each piece of paper seemed to have origin in different areas of the world and time period. They seemed to range from ancient Egyptian papyrus to Medieval parchment to Asian scrolls to modern computer paper. Regardless of origin, they shared the same subject matter - a figure of a faceless woman. Although the hair was dressed differently and the garments varied in accordance with the time period of the paper's origin, anyone could tell they were all of the same woman.

: Could this woman be the leader of the Gifted: Wondered Haldir. It was a valid question, but it seemed strange that the face was void of eyes, nose, and mouth.

Before they could examine things any further, their elven ears heard the sound of footsteps coming up towards the first door to this floor. They closed the drawer and hid behind various items flawlessly. By the time the wooden door swung open silently, not even the most observant of people would notice that anyone had been in this room.

Only one person entered this room. From the sound of the footstep, the Elves could calculate that it was a man of great height, but in exceptional physical shape. The man was wearing heavy boots and long leather trench coat. There was a very faint sound of a heavy pendant on a long chain. Briskness of gait suggested that the man was in mid thirties and full of vigor and turbulence. Well regulated breathing meant confidence. In total, this man exuded seriousness.

What the immortals could not see from their hiding place was the man himself. Aside from his confidence and gait, this man had dark brown hair that could have been mistaken for black. His eyes were honey brown, but the shape was quite sharp and clever. Almost all features of his face were a little rough, but not hideous. There was a coarse charisma about this tall, dark, and relatively handsome man. His chin was covered with very short stubbles that made it apparent he hadn't shaven in days. His hair was styled into a faux hawk.

The Gifted took off his trench coat and placed it on a chair near the piano. He stopped in front of the enormous painting for a while. Legolas peeked a little and saw that the tall man was standing exactly where he had stood. After a few moments of heavy silence, the man got a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. A sip or two later, he sat in front of the antique piano and placed the glass on it. Without and music sheets in front of him, the man closed his eyes and began playing Schubert's impromptu in G flat major. He took another sip of his wine in a few moments and continued his recital.

Haldir carefully examined this man. He carefully peered ahead and glanced at his hand as the fingers glided effortlessly over the black and white keys. Despite the apparent agility, they were rough and callused from work. Certain calluses suggested the handling of weapons such as swords, spears, and bows. Guns could not possibly cause the type of calluses on the palm of his hands.

When he was done with that piece, he began Beethoven's piano sonata number fourteen in C sharp minor. The dark and heavy melody matched perfectly the dark theme of the interior decoration. It seemed to be relieving stress for the pianist, or so it seemed until there came a knock on the door below.

" They need you down there again," came a voice. The Gifted in the top floor stopped his surprisingly ambidextrous fingers and finished the last few drops of the wine. He got up and stared at the painting one more time, standing exactly were he stood before. There was a single dry laugh, then the man walked away and out of the room.

When the Elves were sure that the man would not return, they came out of their hiding places and looked at each other for a few seconds. This entire room belonged to the leader of the Gifted, containing nothing but useless junks, personal belongings, and eccentrically sentimental artifacts. Everything about this room was dark, old, and strange. The oddest of all was the painting and the sketches. Everything else merely mirrored the man's tastes, but not his thoughts. The pieces of art gave them a detailed and extraordinary insight into this man's mind. However, several questions still remained to be answered.

: If that man is a reincarnation of someone from the Fifth Age of Middle-earth, then who was he during his former life? What position or grudge did he hold then that is reflected now as a dangerous underground society out to dominate the world: Queried Haldir in reasonable perplexity. Having left Middle-earth for Valinor in the middle of the Fourth Age, they had been cut off from that world and its happenings until now. Even if the three newcomers learned the history of the reincarnated Men, it would be another thing to learn the last millenniums of Arda as they last seen it. Legolas had no time to teach them and more importance was laid on solving the issue at hand. It was not absolutely necessary for the Elves to know the forgotten past before setting out on their mission.

Many guesses went unspoken before Elladan suggested that they get back to their recon mission. The four immortals went on about looking through everything, trying to find something that would give them the upper hand. It seemed pointless, but not one single thing could be left unexamined.

In a matter of a few minutes, every single corner of the room had been searched without fruitful results. It turned out in the end that this room was no more than a living quarter. Still, they gathered valuable information that could not be found in mission briefings or blueprints - the man's unconsciousness.

Not feeling down at all, the four Elves began making their way back down, locking the metal door as they left. Their stealthy movements went unnoticed by those asleep and partying. All was well as they crept out the door they entered in and hid in the clump of trees by the railroad tracks. Legolas looked at his wristwatch and found that they had three minutes until a train would arrive and bear them back towards the grove where they would be picked up by Aragorn.

As they stood still in the darkness of the night, the Elves heard the distant clamor of a metal beast howling in full fury.

* * *

In the warm comfort of the fireplace in Aragorn's study, the five companions pondered the findings of their search from few minutes ago. 

" The dead wood of the furniture is old, very old. I can say with complete confidence that all objects in that room are actually from the periods they seem to be from," commented Elrohir.

" Trinkets suggest the same, but personal belongings like clothes are new and expensive," added Elladan.

" Most of the weapons in the armory were bought most likely from the black market. Some of the things have been banned or are rare to find," said Legolas.

Haldir uttered, " the people definitely are not normal. I could sense the more powerful ones, and that is not a reassuring piece of news, I'm afraid."

Aragorn's face was distorted with discomfort and worries. This was worse than gangs or mafias in more ways than one. Nothing was certain yet, as was their plan for future action, but he knew that just the four of them in combat would not be enough to defeat such a massive force with extraordinary powers. It was probably possible to demolish them all with one blow or a protracted battle fighting small groups at a time. However, this place was only one part of a worldwide syndicate. It was not for sure yet if the man they saw was only the leader of the New York territory or of the whole organization. However, looking at their living conditions, it seemed that there was another hand involved in this that might have as much power or even more than the man they just saw. Or at least, powerful enough to keep the underground syndicate running without having to resort to existence-exposing methods.

" I am happy that we were not discovered," started Haldir, " but I must say I am uneasy with the fact that we _were_ undiscovered the entire time."

Elladan and Elrohir agreed. " We felt the same way. It was too easy. The powers we sensed were more than enough to know that four strange beings were amongst them," declared Elladan.

" Perhaps intoxication inhibited their powers as well?" Elrohir conjectured.

" I think that might explain it," said Aragorn. " They wouldn't let you walk out if they knew you were all there."

Legolas stated, " let us hope that is the case." He drank his cup of coffee and turned his gaze towards the fire. Going over all details in his head, he could only hope to find a valuable clue. The Elf's eye twitched for a moment. He wished he hadn't come back here tonight. He wished he hadn't left the lair of his enemy without another long look at the immense painting on the wall.

**

* * *

****A/N:** What do you think about that painting? I don't know how it actually came out in writing, but it was hideous and scary as hell in my head - which it's supposed to be. Aren't you proud of the newcomers? Elladan knows how to pick locks! Then again, who knows if he haven't been doing that for ages to do pranks? I say it's a job well done anyhow! Well, lots of things to be answered in the next chapter, so I'll get on to writing it!

Please Review!


	24. Buy Yourself a Clue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning:** You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22.

**A/N: **Can you tell I love Beethoven? Yeah… A little upbeat, a little dark… You know… Well, enough random rambling! Enjoy the chappie!

**

* * *

**Back in the headquarters of the Gifted based in New York, the insane party was still going on in the ground floor. Some were asleep in their rooms in the second floor, trying to sleep off their intoxication. At the top floor, Beethoven's piano sonata number fourteen had just begun. 

The moonlight gained five companions from the five-pronged candleholder beside the piano. Small flames burned steadily, glaring against the semi-glossy, old varnish of the piano. It also played upon two faces by the piano, one sitting on the bench and another in a chair few feet away.

" You know, the deaf needs no ears when he has a devilish muse to prod him with a conductor's baton," spoke the pianist. His fingers glided naturally along the yellowed piano keys.

" What do you mean?" Asked the other man.

" Beethoven."

" Beethoven? Oh, you mean like selling your soul to Satan or something?"

The pianist laughed. He knew his companion was only half serious and half joking, but it was humorous to see them try to please him.

" That's what everyone would say. However, they'd be wrong."

" Why?"

" Because the deaf has no one to listen to but himself. He is his own devil and muse, his anguish is his inspiration. Get it now, boy?"

The pianist laughed in a low tone.

" But you're right too, partly. Beethoven didn't sell his soul to Satan; he just took one look at him."

Drinking his cup of wine, the other man yawned a little afterwards. " I'm sure you didn't bring me to this party in the countryside just to tell me jokes. What do you want?"

Finishing up the sonata, the pianist turned and leaned on the keyboard, making an awkward noise.

" Frank, did you feel something strange a while ago, twice at an interval of an hour or so?"

Frank Haydn of Forte Conglomerate nodded. " Why did you tell me to keep quiet about it then?"

" Because the time wasn't right."

Frank frowned a little. His boss was always frustratingly mysterious and it would sooner or later get on anyone's nerve. He asked, " what was it then?"

The pianist paused for a moment to take his elbow off of the keyboard and light a cigarette. After a puff of smoke, he said, " things will get stranger, more complicated, and uglier from now on. I need you to be focused more than ever."

Frank nodded.

" You're going to have to deal with Andrew now since Don has a new task to tend to. Make sure the bastard doesn't bring too much of the government's focus on the company. We can't have the morons in D.C. freezing assets and even trying to scratch the surface of our activities and relations."

" I'll take care of it no problem," said Frank as he sat up straight. This was another chance to show that he was an invaluable right hand man.

Holding the burning cigarette in his hand, the pianist grinned as he commanded, " get our elite trackers. They have a few deathless shadows to find…"

* * *

The four Elves were on a train towards Charlotte's home, sitting in one of the sleeping cars and looking out the window. The scenery was passing by quickly. Only one subject dominated all of their thoughts, and it was the room they searched. No one said a word, but they knew what the other was thinking. Haldir decided to change the gloomy mood by turning on the tiny television on one side of the small room. 

: I am still amazed how addictive this thing called television is to any being.:

He flipped back and forth between several news channels, hoping to catch something of interest. He was determined not to watch any other TV shows because he knew it would just suck out lots of precious hours from his day. He went from MSNBC to FOX News to CNN to BBC and beyond, wondering if anyone would speak up and break the menacing silence.

: Shall we watch something other than the news: Asked Elladan. Haldir handed him the remote control and the Elf browsed freely. While in the process of channel surfing, Legolas groaned softly and asked for the TV to be turned off. Elrohir raised a brow and questioned: what is bothering you:

: I feel like we missed some important detail in that room.:

Elrohir retorted: we spent more time than we should have looking through _everything_ in that room. What could we possibly have missed:

: The painting…I feel like we missed something.:

At one point or another, each Elf took a gander what Legolas was speaking of, but decided against speaking of it. Nothing was of certain and they did not take a good look at it as much as Legolas did. Still, something began worrying them just like it was to Legolas. Slowly, very slowly, the Elves began to see the detail that they previously dismissed as a trivial item. Feeling pathetic and guilty, they all looked into one another's faces.

Black and red clouds covered every inch of the celestial body, real enough to be mistaken for fire, amber, and smoke. In the middle of the ominous sky was a large fire-breathing dragon in the figure C. It's body was made of half-molten metal and steel scales along the back making sharp ridges like the razor teeth of the dragon.

The dragon was just a subterfuge. The seemingly ornamental part of the painting was the most important piece of all. The abnormally fiery cloud in the center of the figure C dragon gave it all away.

: How could we have missed something so obvious? It was right up there, apart from the rest: exclaimed Haldir. He ran his hands over his face in frustration.

: We missed a perfectly good opportunity, no doubt: said Elladan as he sighed heavily. Elrohir did the same, then looked out the window and into the noon sky.

: Not all is lost yet. Our enemies will come to New York City to look for us. Meanwhile, we must form a plan that will make perfect use of our advantage - our anonymity of official existence and location. It will take them a long while to find us if the leader stays in their headquarter, and I predict he will. He's going to have to answer to whoever is in partnership or in charge of this whole operation.:

The three Elves nodded in all seriousness. Austerity and determination showed on their fair elven faces. The fate of the world, including Valinor, rested in their hands.

Legolas clenched his hidden fists. : Sauron _will_ be defeated:

* * *

Don was asleep in his bed, sleeping off the fatigue of last night. He had been doing this and that all throughout the night until five in the morning. Now noon, it was time for him to get up. 

A dark figure emerged from the shadowy corner of the curtained room. It moved across and went around the bed to the side table. A hand picked it up and held it a foot away from Don's head. Two seconds passed, then the metal hammer began hammering away on the two metal bells.

Don snapped up, breathing heavily from shock. Rubbing his bleary eyes, the rich executive waved his arm at his guest to turn off the alarm. " Get the damn thing away from my ears!"

The dark figure laughed half hysterically. It was fun to mess with Don.

" What could you possibly have done that lasted until five in the morning with a woman you met only for the second time?"

Don glowered at his friend. He could still hear ringing in his head. " For your information, _I_ was out until five in the morning. She left four hour before. What do you want, Saturn?"

The man named Saturn smirked as he glanced about the room quickly. It seemed relatively clean and undisturbed save the rumpled suit piled on a chair near the bed. He murmured, " I can see one of your favorite pastimes didn't happen last night, or at least not here."

" So what?"

" Tell me about this woman, Don."

Don cocked his brow at Saturn.

" You're the one who told me to keep an eye on her. Don't you know who she is?"

" A little. But not enough like you do since last night."

Don sighed as he slowly kicked away the entangling sheets and sat up. " What do you want to know?"

" Name, looks…the basics."

Dressed in nothing but his boxers, Don got up and put on his thick velvet robe. Yawning and scratching his head a little, he walked into the closet and talked as he searched for a pair of suit to wear. " Charlotte Norwood, New York Police Department detective, in her twenties."

There was a thud from the closet when Don knocked over a shoe from the shoe rack. After a few seconds of mumbled curses, he continued. " Brown hair, dark green eyes, quite athletic, kind of tall…nice _assets_…"

Saturn grinned.

" Didn't get much else out of her, but I got the impression that she's from the countryside or something, nothing like a city girl. She's by the book, honest, and a little aggressive sometimes."

Saturn began to chuckle. Don now moved to the bathroom and cleaned up. Meanwhile, Saturn pondered as to what might have happened last night. He had a few ideas, but he wasn't so sure about some. A while later, Don emerged nice and neat with his expensive black suit, black shirt, and a dark silver tie.

" Anything in particular you want to know, Saturn? Like if she knows something she shouldn't?"

The guest lit up a smoke and began puffing little smoke rings. Don turned towards a full length mirror to check his suit. He asked again, " anything?"

When he turned around towards the bed, there was only a fading smoke ring. All else was gone. Not even a cigarette butt was left like last time Saturn was here. Don muttered, " damn bastard thinks he's Houdini."

Grabbing his wallet and briefcase, Don walked out of his bedroom and called for his butler and some lunch.

* * *

" Good night, Mr. Heath." 

Don waved good-bye to the security guards at the front lobby of the building and walked right out into the dark of night. His chauffer was waiting with the limousine, holding the door open. As soon as both were inside, the chauffeur asked Don where to go. Don was silent for a while, then said, " the police department."

" Should I call ahead so they can expect you?"

" No."

The limousine pulled away and merged into the night traffic.

* * *

When Greg returned from his shift and returned to the building, he was stunned to see a limo parked right in front of it. A chauffeur was waiting outside, smoking. His new partner, a fumbling rookie like Charlotte once was, whistled in awe. 

" Some rich old man got murdered or something?"

Greg dismissed the comment and made his way up the stairs and into the lobby, he could see practically everyone whispering about something weird and scandalous. His partner kept tugging at his sleeve to get his attention.

" What?"

" You know what's going on, boss?" Asked the rookie.

" No idea."

Greg went up the Alden, his friend, and asked about the situation. Alden was hesitant to answer, but gave in to Greg's request. He muttered softly, " apparently Don Heath's standing in front of the women's locker room, waiting for someone."

' Damn it,' thought Greg. He began carefully picking his way through the crowd, wondering why he was even going in that direction. He was afraid of what would happen when he found Don. Greg decided to hide in the men's locker room to hear the conversation that would transpire, if any. Meanwhile, he would think of what to do next.

Pretending he didn't know who Don was, he casually made his way in to the men's locker room adjacent to the women's locker room. He stood behind the closed door and focused on his hearing.

In a short while, he could hear Don asking someone to call Charlotte out. Sure enough, he could hear the sounds of footsteps approaching where Don should be. All he could hope now was that no one would bother him until the last word was spoken.

" I thought I might take you out for a drink or a walk, Miss Charlotte," said Don with his best innocent voice.

Greg rolled his eyes.

" I was thinking along the lines of a glass of wine at a place where you can see the city from high up…like my place?"

There was a pause and Greg was afraid for a moment. He thought his heart skipped a beat.

" That sounds nice," said Charlotte, " but I'm going to have to pass. I have paper work to do."

Her tone was a little cold and sharp. Don could sense that he might have to put a little more effort into this. He asked, " is that just an excuse because this is awkward? Because I thought something kind of happened last night."

Charlotte replied sharply. " I wasn't myself last night. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I was interested in you because I'm not."

" Then why did you get in the car?"

" It was raining and I didn't have an umbrella."

Don chuckled. " Sure…let's say for a moment that what you say is true. Then that makes you a little _easy_, getting in a strangers car for a dry ride home, doesn't it?"

Charlotte tried to suppress her eyes from rolling in frustration. " Look, _Mr. Heath_, I've already explained that I was out of whack last night - for various personal reasons - and I have virtually no interest in you whatsoever. If you're going to keep this up, I suggest you use how much ever fortune you can spare from your billions and buy yourself a clue - you're not all that you think you are."

' A harsh slap in the face,' thought Don. Of course, he could come up with vicious attacks of his own, but tried to refrain. After all, he knew there would be problems when he dove into this head first. ' Bear it like a man,' he told himself.

Greg, on the other hand, couldn't be happier on this sour note of the conversation was struck. This was not what he expected, but it was good nevertheless. Besides, he would never admit defeat even if he recognized it.

Don explained coolly, " look, Charlotte, I don't know why you think that way, but I _am_ all that I think I am. I have everything I want and I can get anything if I don't already have it. I don't think you realize that what you said only applies to one person in this world and that person is you."

" I doubt it. I know what I am and I've made peace with the facts. I don't think _you_ have, you overbearing jack…"

Don cut her off right then. " Why the sudden hostility? I'm merely stating the obvious. I have everything; you don't. Stick around, maybe get something profitable out of it."

" ' Better to be alone than in bad company'…ever heard of it? I think by now it should be engraved in your head."

" Like how ' it's not my fault, it's everyone else's' is in your head?"

" You clearly don't handle rejection very well."

" And _you_ can't handle the truth."

" When was the last time you spoke to your therapist?"  
" When I realized I can have anything in the world."

" Do you know what an incredibly vain asshole you are?"

" As much as I know you want me."

" Stop trying to talk your way into people's pants!"

" Why? It always works!"

Charlotte lost her temper and swung her foot towards Don's groin. Luckily for the young CEO, he stopped the foot with his hands and jumped back. He sighed a sigh of relief and recomposed himself. He was so lost in the banter of insults that his breathing was erratic and his mind blank.

Don spat out furiously, " aren't you the least bit curious why I'm interested in you? Don't you want to stick around and find out?"

Still in the moment of vehemence, Don rushed up with quick steps and grabbed her face and kissed Charlotte. Figuring that this act of apparent lunacy merited a good blow to the family heirloom to get the madness out of his system, Charlotte swung her foot up once again. Like a déjà vu, Don caught her foot and jumped back. He smirked and said, " you know better than to use the same move twice."

He straightened his clothes and looked at his watch.

" Well, I'm sorry I can't spend more quality time with you making cheeky, sly remarks, but I have to go now if you're going to pretend you're not interested. I'll make sure to continue this soon. Think about what I said. You might get something out of it if you put your rage into something a little more productive..."

Smirking and absurdly blowing a kiss, Don winked good bye and left with a feeling that he got a pretty good rise out of this. Frankly, he couldn't remember the last time he got so worked up about something. He didn't think he could provoke her that much, but it was good to know that she's capable of amassing great energy. This would be fun in a way.

Greg stood dumbly wondering if he should be happy about the fact that Don almost got his jewels done in twice, or angry about the strange offer. He also wanted to know why…but he would rather not find out if it meant that nothing would happen between the two of them.

In a similar state with Greg, Charlotte wondered about Don's offer for an answer to a very peculiar question. In the end, all of her thoughts were focused on kicking Don's ass the next time around if she should come face to face with the repulsive creature from Hell.

* * *

Legolas paid the cab driver and hauled the last of the handful of luggage up the stairs to avoid prying neighbors. Haldir opened the door when he knocked and locked it tight soon after. He waited for Charlotte to come and ask questions about the trip, but was only met by empty space. It was strange that she was not here, but it soon passed out of his mind. After all, she had a social life to live and that required time away from the home, even late at night. 

: What are we going to do now: Asked Elrohir. He sat on the couch comfortably, picking at a loose thread on the pillow. He didn't really want to talk about it, but it was necessary. After all, they didn't have all of eternity to solve this thorny problem.

Haldir toyed with the TV remote control as he said: I think we need to consider if this is the safest place to be right now. Will this place be enough to keep us secret and the rest of the world safe:

That was certainly an issue they haven't thought of before. Nevertheless, it was a very important one. This could be construed in many ways: the Gifted would expect them to be in a quiet suburban as most people would, or they expect the Elves to think that already and would predict the immortals to hide in the most unexpected inner city.

Either way, this was a challenging situation. The solution seemed to be buried deep in tricky psychology of the insane - just how crazy or normal are these Gifted?

After some brain storming, the Elves came up with two solutions. Option one, they would stay in Charlotte's apartment, restrict their moves, and be assured that no major public attack would take place unless the Gifted were ready to wage an open war upon all of the Ungifted. Option two, they could move into Legolas's old place, have a little more freedom in warfare, but be aware that they would not be protected or have easy access to necessary items. It was a tough choice, but they would have to weather the torment and pick the best option.

: Let's sleep on it and decide tomorrow: suggested Elladan after some time of awkward silence. They all agreed and bid good night to each other, preparing for well-deserved rest of mind and body.

* * *

" Won't you tell me?" 

Adelaide furtively ran her fingertips along Andrew's cheek. He smiled a bit deviously, but did not say a word. It only made his beautiful wife more curious, but he couldn't help himself. To think that this breathtaking, raven-haired beauty was one of perhaps the two most beautiful Elves in Tolkien's Middle-earth.

' Well, that's not true anymore,' he thought as his smile cracked open even wider.

" Tell me!"

Tucking a few strands of hair behind her shapely ear, Adelaide sat up and looked down on Andrew. Lying still on their sizable bed, Andrew - or Aragorn - could only look up into the gem-like eyes that looked down upon him. Strangely enough, the moonlight from the windows lit up her hair from behind, creating a halo-like effect.

" Who were those people? You haven't even told me that yet."

Aragorn answered, " some people I met during the campaign, no big deal."

Although not satisfied with his answer, the beautiful wife let it go. If he would not tell her, perhaps it was not important enough to be any of her concern. Besides, Andrew was keen in keeping in touch with the public. The only strange thing was that they stayed so long in their private residence.

" You know, you've been quite tense the last few days," whispered Adelaide. She bent over to kiss Aragorn. She laughed softly and bent over again to kiss him. Aragorn ran his fingers through her silky hair, smiling. When he was in her arms, he felt like nothing in the world could go wrong.

**

* * *

****A/N:** Now you know Sauron is here, but exactly _why_ is he here? Tune in next chapter to find out! It's not just because that would make the story interesting, trust me. I even have a line from the book and a little twist of my own…am I twisted or what? Well, I hope you enjoyed it, I tried to make it a little longer and fast-paced. I'll work on that a little more. Thanks, people! …or Hobbits…or Dwarves…or Elves… Any Orcs?

Please Review!


	25. An Old Acquaintance

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning:** You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22.

**Change:** Because of the restriction imposed upon my "creativity" by QuickEdit, **bold words** will no longer be special first point of view notes, but **will be Elvish.**

**A/N:** To answer Robyn, well, I looked around for masculine names that started with S and A with meaning that was similar to Sauron's. Since I couldn't really find anything satisfactory, I decided to go with Saturn. According to (I use this site to look for names and their meanings, I don't own it), Saturn is "From the Latin _Saturnus_, which is of unknown meaning. In Roman mythology he was the father of Jupiter, Juno and others, and was also the god of agriculture. This is also the name of the ringed sixth planet in the solar system." Using my Author's Note in Ch. 8 as a jumping-off point, I used the logic of Saturn being the father of the Olympian Gods and Goddesses relating to the logic of Sauron being the founding "father" of this supernatural syndicate some aspects of that relationship doesn't fit, I know, but I couldn't really think of anything else. It's difficult to find names alphabetically and by definition for all of my characters…and Eru knows I have more than I should. Damn, that's a long note! Well, let's get the show on the road!

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Saturn relaxed in his bed, gazing out the little crevice between the heavy curtains. The window was a little dirty, but he could still see the vast nothingness outside. Not able to fall asleep, he raised himself up. After stretching his arms a little to get some blood flowing, the dark brown haired man got out of bed. 

His bedroom was enormous. Full of things he had collected over the years, it was a place that reminded him of his life thus far. Save for a few articles, his life was boring and bland on the surface, that is. Across the room, one could see his favorite things arranged next to each other. There was his favorite piano that he kept for some small portion of his life. Right next to it was his masterpiece painting that took up most of the wall. He considered it a work of art no one could imitate.

Walking across the room slowly, Saturn managed to light up a cigarette and began puffing little smoke rings. Passing by representatives of several epochs, he arrived in the Medieval period. It felt a bit like home to him to stand in front of this gargantuan painting. It took him months to carve the wooden frame and to complete this masterpiece, but it was worth the while. It represented everything he was and is. It was a part of his history. This was his darling.

' I wonder if those poor fools figured it out yet.'

Saturn sat down in a comfy couch in front of the painting and mused with a little devious grin. The genius of this painting did not lie in the realistic portrayal of human figures and the surrounding nature, but in the subtlety of symbolism. He began to examine his work with an amusing reminiscence.

To begin his devilish musing, Saturn looked to the battle field. There lay hundreds of parts that once composed a whole being, bleeding and rotting. Above them stood the crazed warriors brandishing their swords without distinguishing from friend or foe.

' Just like the end of the Fifth Age where Man fought against Man for greed.'

Surrounding them was the forest of dark trees, merging with the fiery sky.

' I wonder if three of them recalled that day when they saw this. If they didn't, well…I should be disappointed.'

In the center of the sky was the dragon of molten metal and steel scales. It was breathing fire down upon the battleground with its body curved in the figure-C.

' Ah…do you remember that horrific creature?'

This is where the genius of his painting would come into picture. To anyone who had never gone through what Saturn did, they would not see this. However, he expected his intruders to recognize the subtle hint in the middle of the figure-C dragon. An extraordinarily fiery cloud lay in the center…forming the icon of evil that was supposedly extinguished for tens of thousands of years.

' The Great Eye!'

Saturn jumped up and threw his cigarette butt on the floor. The orange amber went out and only emitted a thin trail of smoke.

' I remember those days like it was yesterday. After all, all I could do in the old days was to think of the times when I had everything in the world. I was so close…so close…'

He slammed his fist onto the wooden table beside him. The legs gave out and splintered into pieces. The porcelain lamp and the crystal ashtray shattered into a thousand pieces.

Saturn whispered under his breath, looking down onto the exact spot on the floor where one of the intruders had stood for some time, " if it weren't for those damned creatures, I wouldn't be here, doing this. If it weren't for…that Heir of Isildur, I would be sitting in the throne of Barad-dûr, ruling over all living things!"

He took one step and stood on that exact spot. He could feel the residual ambiance seeping through him. He hated it…he loathed it with every fiber of his being. This was his last chance to regain what was robbed from him long ago. If this asshole was trying to stop him…well, he would have to do something about that.

" The Enemy…the Great Eye…Sauron. Now I've been reduced down to Saturn, the leader of the Gifted. My power may be little, and my Ring gone, but I shall rise again."

Sauron, once the greatest enemy of all free beings of Middle-earth, stood still in the renewed land of Arda now known as Earth. But did he know what he was facing? Did he know his enemies?

Narrowing his eyes until they were closed, Sauron let the sickening aura of his enemy course through his veins. He had felt the presence of this being as far back as the beginning of this Earth. He had felt it ever since like a ghost that would not leave purgatory. All along he hoped it was just a pure coincidence. Sauron knew it wasn't just a feeling when he sensed it hiding behind the curtain near the piano. It was real, and now Sauron had a plan to make it unreal.

" I am standing over the vestige of your essence…have you felt mine?"

* * *

Charlotte opened the door to her apartment and clumsily felt her way through the living room in the total darkness. She had already tried flipping the switch to the lamp, but the light bulb was apparently out. Just when she was so close to the kitchen light switch, she bumped her shin against the corner of a table and tripped down onto the floor with a thud. 

She could hear a door opening and see the light go on at the opposite side of the living room. Before she could jump up, Legolas poked his head above the back of the couch and smiled down at her. Charlotte was on her side, rubbing her throbbing shin. Grinning a bit sheepishly, she looked up at him. Soon after, she saw three more elven faces staring down at her on the floor. Her face flushed a little from embarrassment. What a fumbling fool she must appeared to be to these perfect, well-poised beings.

" Did I wake you guys up?"

The five of them laughed casually, then it died down to an awkward silence.

" When did you guys get back?"

Charlotte sat up and continued to rub her shin.

Haldir spoke up. " Just a few hours ago."

When silence fell, they looked uneasily at each others faces. No one could think of what to say. Legolas decided to break up the ice and break the news to Charlotte now.

" I need to tell you something," said Legolas. " We…are going to move to my old place tomorrow night."

Finding this piece of news a bit random and sudden, Charlotte questioned out of curiosity. " Really? Why?"

" We decided that living in the center of a metropolis like this isn't safe for anyone."

Charlotte nodded. Elladan sat down on the couch armrest and leaned against the back of the couch.

" It's nothing personal, so don't brood over it," added Legolas.

Charlotte replied, " I won't. I won't."

Elrohir bent over and offered her a hand. He helped her up and she straightened herself.

" Be careful next time," he said and smiled.

She smiled in kind and began limping her way to her room. " Good night."

The Elves chanted " good night" in unison. When the door to Charlotte's room closed, the relatively newcomers stared at Legolas.

**" When did you decide we are going to move?"** Asked Elladan.

**" Just now."**

Legolas sighed and lay down on the couch again. "** If a battle brews, we need to make sure that the minimum casualty comes down to us and not innocent bystanders. Staying here will endanger others."**

Others nodded in agreement. Besides, financial and psychological aspects of their residence here was becoming quite a burden on Charlotte.

Haldir whispered, **" so it is settled. We move tomorrow night."**

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* * *

**Frank Haydn was going through a couple of depositions when his secretary knocked on the door and walked in with a rolled up newspaper in hand. 

" Mr. Heath wants you to read the first page."

She timidly set it on the desk before Frank and meekly tiptoed her way out of the room. When the door was closed silently behind her, he unrolled the newspaper and took a good look at it. He mumbled the headline under his breath.

" Rules of Monopoly Still Apply? Forte Conglomerate's Rampant Growth Still Unchecked."

He laid it down and scoffed. It would happen sooner or later, he knew, but in truth he expected it a little earlier. Now the monopoly had grown so much that it would be very difficult for the government to carve up on a silver platter. In some areas of business, Forte was already a monopoly. In some of the more challenging business sectors, Forte was about ready to swallow up most of the competitors.

' I guess I better get to working my plans.'

Reading through the rest of the article, he found the corners of his lips curling ever so slightly. Although it was nothing to smile about, Frank found it somewhat amusing.

' Don's failure means my failure, but I'd like to see him squirm under pressure he can't charm his way out of.'

He noted the 'on-background' source, denoted as 'a politician with revolution in mind.' That was all Frank needed to figure out who the source was and why he or she was hell-bent on bringing down a corporation that could very well ruin his or her career.

' Your goody-two-shoes thing better be an act, or you'll never survive in a Machiavellian political arena.'

Frank folded up the newspaper and tapped a pen to the desk.

' I spent my time developing this conglomerate, yet it's not mine. If it weren't for the good paycheck that comes at the end of every month and my stocks rising like hell, I would've killed Don for sport. That bastard thinks he's in charge of this whole bit.'

He threw his fountain pen with ease with ease , but deceptively strong and grinned when the metal tip of the pen embedded itself deep in the thick wooden door to his office. Frank Haydn wasn't all brains and reasons. He had enough brawn to earn him a respected and coveted rank amongst the Gifted. After all, if it weren't for a good mix of the two domains, he wouldn't be entrusted with the job of keeping an eye on Don. If things were to come to…certain circumstances, he would have more than enough strength to wrap things up.

' Wrap up or wring 'em, no prob.'

Walking through his plan for his little political enemy in his mind, Mr. Haydn got up and walked across his shady office. He easily plucked the pen from the door and exited with satisfying thoughts of destruction and conquest.

* * *

Elladan was quietly reading the newspaper near the window, basking in the thin sunlight. He had taken a liking to a few of the cartoon strips and the entertainment section. It was interesting to see what the reincarnated Men deemed to be entertaining. Indeed, some were fun and thought-provoking. Others, on the other hand, he found amusing just because they were ridiculously hilarious catastrophes. One thing that he still could not figure out was what Men called modern art. The cones and the spirals and splattered paints were certainly something he never considered as an art form before. For him, the jury was still out on the issue. 

Elrohir, sitting on the couch with Charlotte's laptop, was fumbling with the keyboard and different types of programs. It was a strange machine, but a very potent one. The way Charlotte and Legolas could just use this as if it had been a part of their living forever was enviable. However, Elrohir knew he was making great progress.

Sitting beside Elrohir was Haldir, flipping through channel after channel. It was interesting to see what Men found funny or thought-provoking. It was disturbing to see that everything was over-sensationalized and over-simplified. There were definitely things he thought were pleasant and good, but this just wasn't the culture he remembered. It made him feel like the strange new-comer, although he had been here on this Earth longer than any human alive. Despite the differences, Haldir accepted this culture as it is without complaint.

Their things packed in their bags and sitting in the spare room, these Elves were ready to move on to a new hideout. Their short time here had been nice. All of the conveniences and hospitalities they received were great, but then again, they hadn't spent much time in the apartment. They were always patrolling the night streets or upstate on that one occasion. As far as physical comforts were concerned, their stay had been pleasant.

Little by little, they began to wonder when they would be leaving and what their new place would mean for their mission. It was agreed upon that this somewhat remote location would put less people in danger. Less casualty was good, but they'd be leaving behind all of the things that made this place a good hideout quick source of information, unsuspecting location, and closeness of this location to the heart of the city where things happened. All in all, Haldir, Elrohir, and Elladan weren't sure if this was the best move to make.

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A/N:** Sorry for the long wait for kind of a short chapter…writer's blocks are killing me here. I had trouble trying to connect the beginning of this chapter to ideas I have for later chapters. My creativity seems to be going through a dry season, for I can't find ideas or inspirations for any of my artistic interests. (Sighs) I just hope it'll all come to me soon. Later. 

**Please Review!**


	26. Saturn's Memories, Part 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning: **You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22.** Bolded words are Elvish. **

**A/N:** It took me a long time, but I am slowly getting back on track. More divine meddling in this chapter. Enjoy!

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**A storm began to brew worldwide. For years, it had been growing out of sight and out of control. It swept up competing corporations and swallowed everything whole. Helpless owners bowed down to the prevailing force that was Forte Conglomerate. Riding the storm triumphantly was Don Heath with Frank Haydn riding on his coattail. Now the blade-sharp edges of the storm aimed for Andrew Earl-Harris. 

Being a rare politician, Andrew's honesty and charisma drew a very large support base for his campaign against a threatening force wielded by Don. Not only was this company larger than life in North America, it was taking over the world quickly and methodically. Having been awakened by Andrew, the public now viewed the once 'business savvy' conglomerate as the financial and political menace it really is. Grass root movements and canvassing sprang up everywhere, informing and uniting adherents.

Distracted with his natural affinity for hunting of the opposite sex, Don was rudely awakened to the malicious atmosphere surrounding his joy and pride. If he did not formulate a brilliant plan -- or Saturn commence his part of the bargain -- soon, his multi-billion dollar assets would dissolve into nothing and he into a laughingstock of the century…or history. Being a man of excessive pride and ego, Don could not allow himself to be humiliated. He could not let himself lose.

Don went into his work-mode with determination to protect his empire. He put Frank in charge of digging up all sorts of dirt on Andrew and his family. Once they had information to work with, Don would strike out Andrew from the face of politics.

* * *

The beautiful brightness of day faded into dusk and the artificial lights came to take the sun's place. Still booming with movements and sounds, the city was alive and well. 

A used silver sedan pulled up next to the curb in an empty street. One could smell the dank and smelly alley corners here and there, apparent signs of stagnant rain and condensed steam puddles springing up here and there. No one really cared. No one really lived here…but soon that was about to change.

Four tall men exited the car and got their things from the trunk. Carrying oddly shaped bundles and bags, they disappeared into a dark alley. In a few moments, one returned to the car and bowed his back to speak to the driver still in the car.

" Thanks for the ride. And the prepaid cellular phone. And everything you've done for us. I know I've said you'd be compensated for your sacrifices…and I didn't lie," he said. He shifted his feet a little.

" And I haven't forgotten. I'll be waiting for that reward, Legolas."

The bandana-clad head shook a little from a silent chuckle. He smiled and held forth his hand.

" There's a summit yet to be climbed, but when you look down from the top of the world, there will be no regret, I'm sure."

Charlotte tried to laugh, but all that came out was a quiet croak. It frightened her to think what would be waiting for them at the top of the mountain. Would she even make it there?

" Well, Miss Norwood, it seems there's nothing more to say other than a few words of caution. For safety's sake, try not to make your visit here something of a habit. No one's safe here, especially not us."

He waved a little before standing up straight. The window rolled up and Charlotte pulled away almost immediately. Legolas took a breath in and looked up towards the dark sky where the black clouds hid the silver stars. His ethereal blue eyes glimmered with the reflection of streetlights and closed them for a second as he exhaled hesitantly.

* * *

' I wonder if it would be weird to check the place out just this once,' thought Emily. She was listening to music with the volume at a near ear-deafening decibel. If anything, she liked the mind-numbing volume more than the music itself. She didn't really pay attention anyhow. 

She still had the key to Lee's place and the direction like she had been there just yesterday. In reality, Emily hadn't been there for a while. Things had gotten in the way and something inside her just said no. It had been too long now. Emily wanted to take a gamble and visit what would most likely be an empty, dark place.

When she got to the door, it wasn't difficult for her at all to unlock the door and push it open. The difficult part was believing her eyes.

" What are you doing here, Emily?" Asked Lee. He was standing with a cup of tea in his hand.

To Emily, this was more than she hoped for. What was more, he didn't seem to be alone.

" Hey…who are your friends there?"

Emily felt her face flush a little as she gazed at the three handsome strangers before her. They appeared to be of the same ethnicity as Lee, or so at least she thought since they were all tall and gorgeous. They also had long hair, which made her wonder if they were from a rural place where it was customary for people to let their hair grow. One thing was for sure; they couldn't be hippies, otherwise they were some very abnormal and violent hippies.

" Uh…well," Lee stammered a little as he began from left to right in an orderly fashion, from Haldir to Elrohir to Elladan. " Halvard Lorin…Elric Phaedrus…and Ellis Phaedrus. They're my…," Legolas couldn't help but laugh a little before he continued, " cousins from Europe." He could tell the Elves were smiling with their eyes also.

Emily blinked blankly for a while. The man she missed for days upon days somehow miraculously returned with three more guys as dreamy, charming, and soothing as Lee himself. It felt like a dream. For a teenage girl, it couldn't be anything else other than a dream…to be honest. She kind of had to make herself breathe regularly to keep her face from flushing like a strawberry.

" I…I came here to do some cleaning…I guess I don't have to now," she whispered. It was embarrassing that her voice wasn't working like she wanted it to. She could feel warmth slowly crawling up her face like a soft baby feather brushed up against her cheeks.

Legolas smiled and offered her the rocking chair he was sitting in. She put down her stuff and sat down tentatively, nervously stealing quick glances at Lee's cousins. Emily knew it was rude to stare and all that, but she simply couldn't resist. After all, it's not everyday you find four handsome, chiseled-like-model men in the same room. The only part that bothered her was the fact that there was nothing to do. That meant she had nothing to do but sit and glance at them or try to make some small talk. Their names sounded very foreign as if they wouldn't know any English, but lots of people all over the world knows at least a few conversational English. Her only barrier was her shyness.

" I'll get you something to drink," said Legolas, trying to break up the ice. He really wasn't expecting her to come here at all, today least of all. He hadn't really briefed the Elves on their aliases. Being pushed into the icy water against his will, Legolas had to regain control. He would just have to make this work somehow.

After bringing her a bottle of chilled water, he kind of stood in between the couch and the rocking chair. He couldn't tell another person about the existence of Elves and the history that became fiction; it was bad enough he had to tell any mortal human at all. So that option had to be scratched out. Some quick brainstorm went on in his head until a reluctant solution anchored itself in the eye of the storm. He would just stick with his story that the Elves are his cousins and try to avoid too much socialization between the four of them. He would send them out on errands or patrols after Emily's classes ended. They knew enough about the routine and the city. As long as they could keep in touch with him in some way, they would always have backup from Charlotte and him.

As cruel as it may have sounded, Legolas was sure it was for Emily's benefit to keep her in the dark as much as possible. It wouldn't do her any good to screw up her whole belief system when she's tittering and tottering enough on the edge of societal acceptance. She doesn't have to know and that's all that mattered. Need to know basis had been his policy all along anyhow. Even if honesty is the best policy, there are rarest of occasions when the best policy is not the best course of action.

* * *

Feeling ill at ease, Emily decided to go home earlier than usual. Legolas had walked her home and no one really talked. Legolas and Emily understood each other's thoughts wordlessly that this was an edgy situation for the both of them. After the farewells were said and all was done, Legolas proceeded towards a bus stop in order to inform Charlotte of a hunch he had. 

To time things right, Legolas waited in a shady corner motionlessly. He did not want to be seen in the lobby or the hallway by neighbors or the concierge, so he decided to wait outside. A little chat with Elrohir threw him a little clue along the way. While the Elves were gathering intelligence for further lead on 'unusual' activities, Elrohir stumbled upon a few tabloid-like articles about Don Heath of Forte. Since he was also on the Elves' watch list, Elrohir didn't think much of it as he proceeded with the piece. Soon enough, there was a small, grainy picture of a woman who looked very much like Charlotte.

The article was posted today, two days after Don made a little visitation to the police department. Apparently the news got out that he had talked with a female police officer and had waited a long time in front of the locker rooms to talk with her. An 'anonymous' source claimed that it had nothing to do with formal business at all, but a rather personal encounter. As soon as the photographer could sneak about and take a snapshot, grainy or not, they posted the article and hoped for increased website hits and sales in newsstands. After all, these people were willing to publish anything for money.

Somewhat contrary to their desire, the sale wasn't all that they expected. The grainy and unclear picture of the woman wasn't all that satisfying and the readers wanted to see a picture of them together. It also didn't really seem sensational that a multibillionaire would have a love affair with a regular female detective. Perhaps if the picture was clear, showing that the woman was either really ugly or really beautiful, the public might have been more likely to believe the load of crap. These tabloid buyers wanted shock and awe -- a small, blurry picture wasn't enough to induce interest…but for those who knew Charlotte personally, it was a gossip goldmine.

* * *

" Come on! What the hell's going on between you two?" 

" Nothing!"

" How did you meet him?"  
" I've got work to do!"  
" I'm sure the chief's interested too…come on, it's for money, right?"

" Yeah, it's gotta be for money!"  
There was a loud clanking noise as a pen flew across the room and made a dent in the metal file cabinet door. The swarm of people backed a little and their shouts reduced to a murmur before they continued their line of questioning, not knowing fear.

" Your 15 minutes are gonna be up soon, darling! Get knocked up now and you're set for life!"

Enough was enough. Charlotte slammed her fists against her desk and got up, glaring down on the little stack of files on her desk. Her slow rise began to startle the crowd around her. She couldn't work like this. There was just no way.

Still glaring down, Charlotte uttered between her clenched teeth, " a tabloid is a fucking tabloid. If anyone ever talks to me like I'm a…"

" Norwood! My office, now!"

Charlotte the death glare disappeared from her face and she looked up. The chief was standing by the door to his office, looking like he was ready to tear apart a cow alive. She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd and made it in to the corner office.

" Rest of you get to work!"

The swarm dissolved into individuals as the door closed and the blinds were shut. Charlotte stood a little restlessly in the office, pondering how good it would feel to shoot the bastard who suggested she get knocked up. The chief sat down and made a semi-glare at Charlotte.

" This is harder on you than the rest of us, I'm sure, but I can't have this department become a media circus. It's bad enough that we've been losing important suspects and witnesses recently. The media makes a spectacle of these disappearances. I can't have my precinct become a shithouse."

Charlotte could guess where this was heading. There were only two possible outcomes and she didn't want to hear any of them.

" I'm gonna cut the crap and just lay it out there; you're a media liability and I can't afford any risks."

Charlotte tried hard not to roll her eyes.

" Are you dating Don Heath?"

" Hell no!" shouted Charlotte.

" Then stay away from Heath. As a matter of fact, stay away from anyone even named Don!"  
Hesitantly Charlotte asked, " so…is that all I have to do?"

" No. I _suggest_ you take a vacation to a remote island or something until this whole thing blows over, and I mean _really_ blows over."

" This is a load of bullshit! I mean, is this that big of a deal? It's a tabloid article, for crying out loud! It's just for shits and giggles, that's all!"

" Shits and giggles until you're seen even in the same block as him! You stay home and he might come over; you keep working and he might come over; you make a mistake on or off duty and they shout bribery. It's shits and giggles and chances -- chances I can't take."

Anger rising in her like molten lava from a volcano, Charlotte felt like tacking down Don and bashing his head against something sharp. Her personal and professional life was ruined because of that one little visit. She didn't even like him, let alone love or infatuation. Even if she was to go public with what happened word-for word, including the kicks and the insults, there was still the fact that he seemed to have some sort of sick interest in her. That would give birth to other theories to link them romantically and it would be non-stop. Charlotte was trapped.

" It's not personal, Norwood. Just think of it as an overdue vacation. You'll probably need the escape anyway; you're listed in the phonebook."

The adrenaline rush was past and she was feeling low. This couldn't possibly be happening. This was like a movie. It couldn't be happening to her.

" Go home. You've taken enough beating today," added the chief with a certain tone to sympathy.

" I'll…I'll see you later, I guess."

As she walked outside and gathered her things, Charlotte realized how little about the world she knew. It was easy to read and hear about other people's misfortunes and think you know what it's like, but it was a whole different thing to experience it oneself. Life was far from fair and she just realized it with a slap in the face.

* * *

Avoiding people and eye contact as much as possible, Charlotte Norwood parked her car far away from her apartment and walked carefully towards home. Just as she was approaching the entrance to the apartment lobby, a hand short forth from the dark alley and pulled her into the black shadow. 

" Shh, it's me, Legolas."

Charlotte took a sigh of relief and yanked her hand away from him.

" You could've waited for me inside the apartment, you know."

Legolas gave her a funny look. " You know some of your neighbors are dying to meet you. I don't want to be seen."

Sighing again, she slapped her cheeks lightly to regain her senses.

" I'm out of it. I've been practically suspended for something that's no one's business but mine. I guess I have more time to help you guys."

" That's one way to look at it," replied Legolas. He tried to cheer her up to soften the fall that would ensue after he would ask a favor from her -- an enormous favor. " I know this isn't the best time to ask you to sacrifice another thing, but I don't see any other path towards a successful coup de grace."

Charlotte rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples. " What do you want from me?"

" I am quite sure Don is connected to the Gifted somehow, but I am now sure how. If…if you could find the connection between Heath and the Gifted, mankind would forever be indebted to you."

Although she should've been panicking, the immortal being's presence was soothing away her anxiety and fury. Charlotte also tried to remind herself that this was for the future of mankind. She asked, " just how do you suggest I get around doing that? I'm on _vacation_. My privileges and clearances are probably suspended while I'm out. I just don't have the resources."

" But you do. All you have to do is act."

" Act?"

" You're probably going to slap me for suggesting this, but you could pretend to take up Don's offer and become a spy…"

Charlotte frowned at Legolas, but was not spastic with rage. Her unexpected reaction enticed him to inquire as to why she was relatively complacent.

" You're not angry?"

" A little."

" I imagined that you'd be a little more livid. What's with you?"

" This is it…"

The Elf gazed at her as if she was touched in the head. " What's it?"

The light in Charlotte's eyes changed, Legolas noticed. He was beginning to suspect some ethereal powers at work.

" Do you believe in fulfilling destiny and all that stuff?" Asked Charlotte  
" Sure…in a way."

" I always thought there was a reason for everything that happened in the world. You know, like how Nature punishes those who have done her wrong, or how Time chastises us for mismanagement of our precious minutes. I believed that my life was the way it was because there was a reason for it. I have nothing to lose. I've always had nothing to lose. Now that you ask me to do this, I have no reason to reject this task -- I have nothing to lose." Charlotte put on a peculiar smile. " Now that I've had time to think, I believe that you came to me for a reason. I believe I met Don and was given a _vacation_ today for a reason. How else can anyone explain these things? I don't think it's all a coincidence. If I do this…if I help you, for me, it's everything to gain -- my reason for being."

With her agreement to do this assignment, the true divine power unveiled the light at the far side of the dark tunnel. It was miniscule, but it was there and Legolas could see it. Fate was at last steering him towards the egress. He now understood her amenable behavior. The pieces would soon begin to fall into place.

" I'm glad you're willing to assist."

He held out his hand. She kind of stared at it for a while, then took it and shook it. The touch also boosted her confidence and the detective could not wait to help the Elves bring down the shadow syndicate. Mankind's fate now rested in their hands.

* * *

Saturn was seated before an antique desk, idly scratching at the piece of paper before him with a pen. There were doodles and sketches of trivial things that he could recall. Swords, brooding towers, armors, rotting corpses…then came to his mind a soaring, ancient black oak. His hands worked without thought. When he was done, Saturn looked at the finished product with wonder. He could not remember this tree at all, let alone any tree. He never cared much about nature or the beautiful things in it. This was foreign to his mind. 

' How came this to my mind? Why do I feel as if I know this tree?'

Leaning back in his chair, Saturn held the paper up to the light and gazed at it. His mind formed storm after storm of ideas and possibilities, but they all died down to dust and returned to a blank slate.

' My idle brain thinks it amusing to poke me with _pleasant_ images. Alas, if I do not begin the plan of mine in the near future, I may soon be dreaming of flowers and rainbows!'

Saturn set the pen on the desk's surface and let go of it. The pen stood on its own, then began to grind it self into the wood. The smooth surface cracked and a cleft formed.

Saturn suddenly closed his eyes and shook his head as if to shake off some unpleasant memory trying to resurface. The pen stopped grinding and fell along the direction of the linear cleft and rolled off of the desk. The black crevice stared back at him as if there was someone behind the blackness. The small, but menacing, crevice plucked the buried remembrance from his mind and unfolded it before his eyes.

_He could feel the cool autumn breeze creeping up on him. The scent of drying leaves and ripe seeds and berries reached him. It made him sick to the core. _

Sauron looked out into the world before him, full of color and vibrancy that sickened him. This place was his bastion of darkness, this hollow tree. This colossal, archaic black oak was his fortress from the sweet and bright world outside.

He was looking out of the thin, long crack. He began to count the number of leaves falling from the golden canopies. The land was beginning to change its garish garb to one more subtle. Still, to him, winter was all too white and bright. All he could look forward to was the empty paths, the stillness of the world about him, the chill, and the silence.

Saturn shook his head violently to rid himself of this reminiscence. This distant memory was now becoming familiar, but was still a mystery. Was this from his days as a Shadow? When he was full of venomous revenge?

_The snow-covered landscape irritated him. The occasional sunlight reflected off of the crystalline snowflakes and vexed his eyes. He hated light. He have always hated light. However, the stillness was consoling to his mind, which was bored senseless. Everyday he thought of what he hated and how much he hated them. He planned out what he would do if he could ever take form again. However, he doubted if that would happen any time soon._

Perhaps this was his first winter in Greenwood the Great, some time before his presence caused darkness and sinister happenings…all leading to the renaming of Greenwood to Mirkwood. Sauron was almost sure this was it. Then again, so many details did not fit.

' No…wait. I remember my first winter in Greenwood. This is not it. I was not hiding in a tree then.'

Sauron put his hand to the crevice on the desk. No, this wasn't his first winter in Greenwood the Great.

' Then is this…after my second fall?'

The memory was now clear to Sauron, the Dark Lord. This was the first of many winters to come.

**

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****A/N:** Is that a cliffhanger…? I don't know. Anyway, I'd like to clarify that the ' true divine powers' in the alley scene is supposed to be Ilúvatar…but I'm sure you already knew that…but sometimes I'm never sure if it's clear to others…'cause my mind works strangely…my thoughts aren't always expressed clearly…as this strange sentence is…I'll stop now. Whew! Sugar high! I'm a little loopy right now. Random rambling rules! …Just ignore me. :-)

Please Review!


	27. Saturn's Memories, Part 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning: **You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22.** Bolded words are Elvish. **

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay…you know how life is. When you least expect it…BAM! It becomes living hell…

**

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**Sauron removed his hand from the crevice and stared at it for a while. The part of the past that pained him the most was resurfacing against his will. He was quite sure now that this was his first winter since his second fall in the end of the Third Age. Everyone thought he was gone for good; they thought he was wiped from the plane of existence. Contrary to their hope and wish, he was here and alive…just not _really_ alive. 

The thousands of years he had to bear through was even more hellish than his first experience as a shapeless shadow. What made it worse was that he had thought out every possible outcome of his strategy and had planned as meticulously as he could. He thought he couldn't possible fail. He thought the world was already in his.

Sauron was so close to achieving his goal. If it weren't for those pesky Men and their diligence and courage, he would be seated in a high throne of black iron and looking down upon Arda burning into a desert. He wanted revenge and he almost had a taste of it; the only thing that stood between him and his reprisal were two small Hobbits and that Gollum creature. How could he be toppled by such small and seemingly insignificant creatures? What had gone wrong?

That was what had driven him to this -- this state of being, yet not _being_. He could have passed those years by in a secret little corner of the most forlorn mountains, never thinking, never existing. Sauron had the choice of living like a true shadow, but he wanted revenge -- but he would not fail this time. He could not afford to lose.

Beckoning his attention again, the crevice drew his gaze towards the black shadow. It seemed like it was trying to awaken him to a repressed memory in order to teach him something. Perhaps the Valar or maybe even Ilúvatar were trying to mess with his head. He wouldn't fall for it; he wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

A flash before his eyes sent him back to the time when he was on the zenith of his path towards revenge. He could see everything as if it was happening right now…

_The vessel of his power had melted away and the awesome pedestal of his physical being had crumbled away. His immense warriors had vanished into the thin air and the once glorious army of horrific creatures fell into the abyss opening up beneath their feet. Everything within his empire, everything he created with his power, was now a heap of dust upon the earth. As his view faded into nothingness, he could see his enemies cheering in the blinding sunlight._

Saturn could not recount the days between his fall and his awakening in the forest, but he was sure it was long and without its merit. Who would want to know how his formless spirit drifted with the wind, floating hither and thither until it was caught in a mesh of tree branches and crackling, dry leaves? That was precisely what apparently had happened. Once he woke up to the world again, he was in a different expanse of earth and trees.

Everything was a swirl of colors and shapes to his eyes. It was that damn autumn…it was as bad as spring when the repulsive flowers would bloom and give color to the land and perfume the air with their suffocating, sweet stench. The only consolation he could find was the fact that autumn was the beginning of the death of life. The changing color of the leaves reminded him of the violent last struggle dying animals would go through before the final jerk of the limb, then stillness.

As far as he could tell, he was in the northern region of Middle-earth, but definitely not in the heart of Mirkwood. His prolonged stay there in the middle of the Third Age had made the forest a place of darkness and sinister happenings. In a way he was disappointed that he was not back in a familiar area, namely his former abode Dol Guldur, but it was nevertheless a relief that he was not trapped in Ithilien or found out by the abominable Istari. Yes, he was a sight for the sore eyes.

As soon as he could untangle his shapeless being from the fibers of the living thing, Sauron floated about to find a place he could hide in. A cave was preferable, but there was none and the best he could do was the hollow inside of a dead, ancient black oak. Contrary to his thought, it was not as sordid as he first imagined it would be. A dead tree was better than a live one, and the entrance -- a thin little crevice -- was small enough to provide a sense of comfort to the dismayed Maia. For now, this was his humble abode.

No Man or Elf came near this little patch of ground. Sauron was alone with his thoughts of malice and revenge. Oh, what ghastly plans he had for the forces of light should he regain his shape and form! His eventless hours were spent planning in detail his path towards regaining his throne as the Dark Lord. There was nothing else he could do. In his little dead tree, malice grew larger and larger.

There was a point when his thoughts of vengeance and iniquity grew so large Sauron knew_ he was stuck inside the tree. Like a snake which swallowed too many rabbits and became stuck inside the rabbit hole, the Dark Lord was jammed inside what was keeping him safe. Being lodged still inside the hollow tree, he cursed the tree for reason no other than the fact that it used to be a living, beautiful thing. His anger and bitterness made his malice grow even larger that Sauron could feel the edge of the crevice digging into his spirit-like form. The dead oak constricted his growing form, yet it kept growing in size and potency until one winter day._

knew 

What was he supposed to remember about this time? What was he supposed to learn from this? That his greed and ambition had gone too far? Yes, the Valar would have come up with some plan to hinder his strategy. Sauron did not fear that possibility as much. What could four Elves possibly do against hundreds of thousands of Gifted who possessed potent powers? It could be said that Sauron would not be overestimating the power of the elite of the Gifted if he were to declare that they could rival the skills of average Elves. With the addition of the sheer difference in numbers, he could not lose. Sauron also knew the Valar themselves would not interfere, nor would Ilúvatar. This was technically a war between Men, and such divine intervention would be going against the grains of their policy that they kept since the capsizing of Middle-earth.

All of the wars humans had waged since the dawning of Earth as we know it were purely of their own making. The only part Sauron had was to assume the role of a 'whisperer' to the whisperers of the Gifted. He instilled in them wickedness ideas in forms of random musings and seemingly silly dreams, and the Gifted themselves goaded the Ungifted to bloody wars. Sauron considered his role in this process a non-intervening one since his whispers were nothing more than very 'vague' hints. The Gifted whisperers had more active part since they were physically in contact with the Ungifted and did more to cause chaos and bloodshed.

After all, his 'whispering' had given birth to the Gifted whisperers. Everything the Gifted had done and are doing now all came from him. This little syndicate was his brainchild; it was him. In the end, it all came down to the fact that although Sauron became a mere Shadow, the Valar had not intervened at all -- no Istari, no miracles, nothing.

However, that so-called advantage also had an unpleasant side to it. Although he was practically handed the reigns to mankind, there were few factors that basically bugged the hell out of him. One was that the pesky Elf from the Fellowship of the Ring was the whisperer for the forces of the Ungifted, single-handedly aiding them towards a somewhat steady equilibrium. Sure, there were sporadic and short-lived moments of the scale being tipped, but ultimately the Ungifted and the Gifted were at a stalemate. Just as the Gifted outnumbered Legolas, the Ungifted outnumbered the Gifted.

The second reason for frustration was the fact that Sauron still could not discover the way to regain a more definite physical shape as he had done after his first ostracism as a shadow. No matter what he tried, the only way he could have any physical appearance was to possess a human body. For example, the body he now possessed was that of a powerful Gifted who volunteered his physical being. However, Sauron did not keep them for too long. After a few years, he would depart and find another. There were many reasons for doing so, and one was maintaining anonymity. He did not want to inadvertently show up in some government agency's radar meant for keeping an eye on Don. In addition, he would get bored of a body after a few years. Every new toy only fascinates for a while, then die away.

Ultimately, Sauron had not found a permanent solution to his problem. As far as the near future was concerned, he still would remain in this body for a few more years. After all, this particular one seemed to attract more attention from the opposite sex. It wasn't until he started to possess bodies that he even noticed the female gender. Before the turning of the earth and borrowing others' bodies, he did not see or think much of them at all. Now that he noticed them, it was very amusing to see them fuss over things he thought were absolutely unnecessary in living -- one above all, love.

' Love blinds, love makes one insane, love makes no sense…yet these Men value it so much they die in the name of love of one another and mankind. What leisure one has when ignorance provides the bliss!'

Sauron toyed with the idea of lust, but no one really caught his attention. His fancies could not be conjured by anyone of any form, save for the Ring that was taken from him. It was his 'significant other,' a part of his soul. It really was a part of him, so it only made sense that he felt an emptiness within him. Even so, Sauron learned to cope with the vacancy within him -- just like he learned to deal with the fact that he could not stay inside a dead tree forever. Without his powers, revenge would have to be done with his own two hands…if he could just figure out how to attain physical form…

_Sauron's only comfort was taken from him when his peace and silence was disturbed by an annoying thing one winter day. Some years had passed by, Sauron could tell, but exactly how many he could not tell. The passing of the sun and the rising of the moon had become so monotonous that he lost track of time. He didn't care. _

All his numbed mind perceived on that winter day was that he was looking out of the crevice towards the blindingly white snow. Nothing was on his mind and he didn't bother trying to keep himself busy with any thoughts. Having had such vehement and venomous thoughts constantly on his mind, this was a nice break before getting back on track towards revenge.

Then, out of nowhere and most unexpectedly, an arrow flew towards his direction and was instantly embedded on the outer bark on the brink of the long, narrow crack. Sauron could see the sunlight glinting off of the thin, smooth wooden shaft. The feathers and the shaft were black against the sunlight, but he could tell they weren't shoddy like those of Orcs or Goblins. He could also smell the scent of fir leaves, pure white snow, clear spring water, and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on. From what he could tell, this arrow and the owner did not belong to this region. Further detail couldn't be determined, but he tried nevertheless by trying to make out any other details about the arrow that would distinguish it as either that of Man or Elf.

Before anything could be concluded, a small dot formed in the center of the light and grew into an elongated oval. Suddenly a hand shot forth from the shadow and grasped the arrow firmly. The instant the shadowy hand touched the edge of the fracture of the bark, the cool flesh of the intruder's hand came into contact with the part of his spirit's membrane that was pressed against the crevice… In that short second, Sauron felt the winter breeze and the miniscule snowflakes on the flesh, and then time seemed to protract into a halt that made a second seem like an ion. As time stood still, Sauron sensed a sort of momentary merging with this being…the pounding pulsation of warm blood gave a faint pulse to his own being. For that fraction of a second, every cell of this_ body was a constituent of _his_ existence and every heartbeat was his own. _

Out of the blue, time returned to its normal rhythm and the arrow was plucked asunder from the dead bark with one swift twist of the wrist. Left bewildered by the inexplicable experience, Sauron waited for the anonymous being to disappear. The black figure loitered about the tree for a few seconds, then began to turn slowly. The sunlight began to illuminate what was once a black silhouette, then a quick turn of the heels masked the identity forever from the Dark Lord.

Saturn slammed the wooden desk with his tightly clenched fist and smashed it into two pieces effortlessly. The crack was no longer visible and the irrepressible train of unpleasant recollections halted.

' Ha! If the Valar think foul memories are going to make me squirm like a fool and desist my plans, they are wasting their time! I've gone over every little details, possibilities, and anomalies countless times…I have contingency plans for every unexpected outcomes. I have learned everything that my past mistakes have to offer me; I'm ready. The world's already mine…!'

Saturn rose and snatched up his dark brown leather trench coat. Slamming the door behind him, Saturn threw on his coat and called up Frank Haydn for a little chat.

* * *

It didn't take Legolas much of the precious minutes to prep Charlotte for the 'infiltration' mission. As soon as he established a few ground rules, he gave her the only equipment she would need -- a prepaid cell phone that couldn't be tracked using the phone company's database. Charlotte was a detective after all, so she could defend herself accordingly to the respective threats. If she ever needed help or had to report information and news to Legolas, she could just call him. There simply was no other way since the actual presence of the Elves could be detected by the Gifted if they were indeed connected to Don Heath. 

As risky as it was, there was no other way to carry out a mission like this. The safest method would be for Charlotte to go alone and go alone with minimal instructions. If Legolas had given her a long list of things to accomplish, she may become overwhelmed by the responsibilities. A minor breakdown, even for a moment, would be fatal to a task such as this that required the utmost secrecy and perfection. All in all, this was only preliminary tactic. As soon as they had enough information to expand their stratagem, more could be done to end this secret war as swiftly and efficiently as possible.

Haldir, Elrohir, and Elladan were quite skeptical about this plan. They still didn't have the extensive knowledge of the world as Legolas did, but it did not seem practical nor ethical to send Charlotte in as a spy while they watched from a distance. Their presence could be detected, they knew, but the success of such ploy was dependent on the intelligence of the target…and Don Heath had enough of that to practically hold the world in the palm of his hand. Wouldn't he know something was amiss? Didn't Charlotte tell them that she did "more than brush him off"? The working mind of present Men was something they were not familiar with, but if common sense told them anything it would be that the man would not be so forgiving or forgetful of such rejection.

* * *

Using the prepaid cell phone, Charlotte called up the Forte Conglomerate HQ and asked to be connected to Donald Heath. The operator asked for her name, then put the tense detective on hold. The music was a source of annoyance at this point since she wanted to get this done and over with. Waiting always made her more nervous and jumpy. 

Charlotte's anxiety reached a point where her hands started twitching and her mouth became very dry. She contemplated hanging up, but the thought abated when she began to imagine how Legolas would react. Would he scream at her? Would he give her a cold glare? Would he punch her?

Just then, the music was silenced and a woman's voice came on.

" Miss Norwood?"

Charlotte spoke up tentatively, " yes?"

" Mr. Heath is currently on his way back to his office from a meeting. Will you stay on hold or should I take a message?"

Charlotte glanced at Legolas. She mouthed the words "hold" and "message," then waited for his response. He mouthed "hold."

" I'll hold."

" Thank you, he will be here shortly."

The asinine music came on again and Charlotte held the cell phone farther away from her ears. As she waited, Charlotte went over the things she would say to Don. It was a wee bit disturbing considering his behavior the day she tried to do in his family jewel. Seeing Don at his best -- or worst, one could argue -- made her realize the distinctive difference between a smooth-talker and an arrogant son of a bitch. Don wasn't even bordering a smooth-talker -- he was on the outer rim of being a conceited asshole.

Out of the blue, the music ended and Charlotte could hear the muffled sound of papers being pushed about on the desk surface. She could hear the soft intake of air. She braced for what she would hope to be a good acting performance.

**

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****A/N:** Holey Boromir (haha…my trademark phrase! I still don't own LOTR, but damn I use that a lot!)…I hate it when things just pile up on you in a flash. I was pretty damn sure I could finish this chapter two weeks ago, but shit just came out of nowhere. The only good thing that came out of the delay was that I got to fix the basic outline of the next few chapters over and over. I apologize. 


	28. What’s Left in the Evening

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

**Warning:** You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22. **Bolded words are Elvish.**

**A/N:** Long time no see, readers and reviewers. Enjoy the new chappie!

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" Don?"

There was some noise on the other end, then she heard him speak.

" Miss Norwood?"

Charlotte forced a dry laugh or two and the silence pervade for the next few seconds. " Um…it's me. Hi. I know I kinda blew you off last time a little harshly…"

" A little harsh? That's an understatement."

There was no apparent anger in his tone, just a little contempt. It was totally understandable, though. After all, it _was_ an understatement.

" …As I was saying, I was _too_ harsh on you the last time."

" What made you change your mind about me?" He asked.

" I didn't quite change my mind yet. I wanted to give it another try."

" Still…why? Didn't the recent press give you a hard time?"

" It did," she said. " I'm even suspended because of it right now."

" Then you want money? What?"

" I'm not after money. I thought it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to give it another try."  
She glanced over to Legolas. He nodded in reassurance of her progress thus far.

Don felt perhaps there was a trap somewhere. Was she taping the conversation for a major media firm? He decided to ask more questions to find out. " Why do you want to give it another try? I wasn't exactly a 'perfect gentleman' the last time I met you."

" I…" Charlotte was at a loss for words. She glanced over at Legolas for force-fed answer, but he only shrugged his shoulders lightly. Hurriedly she dug through her mind for improvisation. " I've never had someone like me so much before."

" Really?"

" It's too personal to go into details, but it did feel a little nice to have someone be so passionate about me." It was a successful lie, especially for someone who never had much luck in improvisation. Charlotte covered the receiver and sighed softly.

As much of a lie as it was, it sounded pretty genuine to Don. It was a stone-cold fact that fame and wealth were qualities of attraction to many people; perhaps Charlotte was sick of living the normal reality and wanted a fling on the higher end of society. Everyone dream of making it big somehow, he knew. Don could imagine a little country girl like Charlotte still harboring aspirations to live glamorously with infinite flow of money. Wasn't it a part of everyone's dream to become successful beyond comprehension? She probably figured that she may as well as end her career in the law force and live a comfortable lifestyle.

The long period of silence was a bit unsettling for Charlotte. Legolas signaled for her to make a move. " Are you still there?" she asked.

" I'm still here."

" Is the flame gone?"  
" It's buried under some ashes."

" Any hopes in rekindling it?" She held her breath in wait. The rich man probably had a long list of famous women waiting to date him at the drop of a pin. By now, Charlotte guessed, he already had a girlfriend or something. What would happen to the plan, then?

" I'm not sure if I want to rekindle that particular flame. I don't know why you want it burning."

Legolas felt a little bit of panic when he overheard that line from where he sat. He scribbled something quickly and handed it over to Charlotte. If this plan failed, then it probably would take more and more time and unnecessary deaths to defeat the Gifted.

Charlotte read the paper, but waited a few seconds to formulate a believable line from the Elf's suggestion to play on 'The One' theory. Her fumbling ad-libbing had an uncanny side effect; it sounded like a true fumbling of a girl in love. " How will I know whether or not you're The One if I never give you a chance?"

Don had a big grin on his face. What Charlotte had just said had always been his trump card in the game of love. No matter who he wanted or what was in his way to getting it, that was the card that always got him what he wanted. His experience had given him at least that much insight into psychology. Indeed, how would one know without trying? Humanity was based on trial and error; trial and error was history. As the grass always looks greener on the other side of the field, people always want to try a lifestyle they've never lived before. Just as he wanted to have someone not yet corrupted by greed, Charlotte most likely wanted to be rich and wanted. Wasn't that the story of anyone and everyone?

" Come with me to a private dinner party tonight," he said.

" Tonight?"

" Tonight. Then we can talk more about this."

" Isn't it a little too fast?"

" I live in the fast lane, you know that. I'll send someone over to drive you to the party. I have a conference right now, so I'll meet you there. I'll see you soon."

Legolas gave her a nod. She uttered, " Good-bye," then hung up. It took her a moment before she regained her normal stats.

" That turned out better than I hoped," the Elf said. It pained him to use someone like this in such methods. If he could have done it himself, he would have. In addition, it had always been his policy since the dawn of reborn Men to do things by himself. Now the situation was far beyond his control. The Valar had sent him three Elves to help him and now a human was involved in this dark plot.

Charlotte saw a bit of agony in Legolas and tried to cheer him up, but partly for herself. " No big deal, Legolas. It's like being James Bond…the spy part, that is."

He smiled sourly. " I'm sorry about all of this."

" Don't be," she interjected, " I'm helping to save Mankind, remember? It's an honor."

" Honor and burden."

He got up and put on his sunglasses. " Never let your guard down; assume that you're always being watched. Remember to trust no one."

" Don't worry. I can take care of myself."

When he opened the door, he turned to take a last glance around the apartment before stepping out. Just a while ago, this place was like any other home. It had gone through many changes since he broke in to return Charlotte's pistol. If things should change for the worst, this humble abode would be ravaged alongside the abandoned building the Elves now resided in -- just before the pillaging of the grey concrete and brown earth into the birth of a hellish nightmare.

Legolas said, " be careful when you make a report."

Charlotte nodded. " I hope your meeting with Andrew Earl-Harris goes well. Good-bye."

Legolas whispered, " good luck."

The Elf parted ways and quickly disappeared from sight. Now Charlotte was on her own to infiltrate the world of Donald Heath and the Gifted to gather intelligence.

" Good luck to me indeed…"

* * *

" I must be out of my mind…" 

Charlotte looked over herself in the full length mirror. Dressed in a simple black dress -- no frills, no embellishments, no fuss -- and black heels worn only once for a co-worker's wedding, Charlotte was examining herself before following the chauffeur into the limousine parked curbside. She couldn't tell what sort of private function she was about to attend, not that it mattered. As long as there wouldn't be too many people asking questions, she would be fine with it.

After packing a few items in her small black purse, she walked out and met the chauffeur by the door. Locking her door with a soft sigh of reluctance, she put away her keys and followed the black-uniformed man down the hall and stairs. So far she had good luck in pretending on the phone, but only time would tell if she could repeat the success with a face-to-face encounter. There was a strong feeling that she would not have the same success she had in verbal bantering, but she hoped something would guide her along.

As soon as the limousine arrived at the front of the mansion, the door was opened and Don stepped in. He had a half-serious look on his face as he closed the door behind him. He asked, " if you step out of this car tonight, you know you'll never escape the media frenzy, right?"

She gulped hard. Charlotte knew it and didn't like it, but she had to. At least that's what she told her self to get out of the motor vehicle. With all of the trouble she went through to prepare for this, it would be a shame to let it all go to waste. " I know," she replied.

Don smiled and offered his hand. There was a slight twitch in Charlotte's hand as she placed it upon Don's hand. The door opened and he led her out, stepping out into a strange new world. Up the stairs they went, through the immense double doors, then into the colossal foyer. This jaw-dropping antechamber was filled with people going in and out of interconnected rooms. Cater waiters, servants, and guests went in and came out of various doors like busy bees. She could not believe a person actually lived in a place like this as a home. It looked more like an old monument or a museum than a home.

As her eyes feasted on the gorgeous architectural features, Charlotte couldn't help but notice the guests dressed lavishly in evening and cocktail gowns. Few of the snobby old ladies looked at Charlotte and her plain tea-length black dress with disco tempt. It was obvious that she was not a part of their high and mighty society.

" They're staring at me," she whispered discreetly to Don.

" No worries. Just focus on us tonight."

He led her out of the vestibule and into the main hall where the actual party was. It was breath-taking for Charlotte. The grand hall was filled with fragrant flowers, marble sculptures, yards and yards of expensive drapery, and vintage furniture. It was like a scene out of a movie as beautiful people walked about in beautiful outfits, dancing and laughing the night away. She wondered if she would wake from this dream.

After grabbing two glasses of champagne, Don led Charlotte to a quiet table in the corner. The drapery and the flower arrangements made a sort of shelter that Charlotte felt was needed. If she wanted to survive the night, she would need some break from the glamour and the glitz.

" This is probably unsettling for you, with the suddenness of it all," said Don in order to smooth the transition.

" A little."

" Think of it this way; you finally have the break you know you deserve. Enjoy the night. Have fun."

He took a sip and leaned back in his chair. She appeared very discomforted by the black-sheep experience. Don was quite sure the poor woman was feeling very bewildered and out of her best wits. Her eyes appeared a little wider than usual.

" You must be willing to trust me to attend a party full of people you don't know and don't understand."

Charlotte nodded nervously as she took a small sip of her champagne. It wasn't so much trust, but the necessity. She replied, " I didn't know what kind of party you meant…I thought it was a lot more smaller…and quieter."  
" Don't worry. We can leave whenever you want. It's not that important anyway." Don sipped a little more and listened to the music. " You've explained to me that you wanted to give this a try because you didn't want regret. What pushed you towards that direction?"

Now the focus was diverted from the party and the staring eyes. Charlotte felt her heart slow down a little. " I guess being suspended made me realize nothing is constant enough for me to continue the sort of lifestyle I have right now…"

Don interrupted. " And what is that, pray tell?"

" Well, for one, silence. And solitude. A little blindness -- I tend not to think about the things I don't need or want in the near future."

" So you want change -- vibrancy, freedom…perhaps a little impulsiveness?"

" Sort of."

Don leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and his chin on his hands. " You think I can provide those things to you?"

Charlotte decided to play on his pride and ego. " You seem to have it all. You can certainly share, right?"

Don laughed heartily. " I do," he said. " Those who say money can't buy happiness have no idea what they're talking about."

" What about love?"

" It can take you to another level."

* * *

It was well past midnight and Charlotte had gotten nowhere with her espionage. Don spoke only of pleasure and left no room for business. That was the way a party conversation was supposed to be, but she needed something to report to Legolas. 

Don could see that she was restless and unfulfilled by the rather formal gathering. A little relaxed from the champagne, but not tipsy, Don felt like he could make a move for the next base. He suggested to go to his place to talk more about other matters and she accepted. They inconspicuously left the dying party and sped towards his apartment.

As soon as the elevator stopped at his floor, Mr. Heath held her hand in his. They walked past the head butler who seemed to have some important message. Don dismissed him with the wave of a hand and the butler excused himself from the drawing room. All was quiet and dim. They sat down much to Charlotte's delight. Her heeled feet were killing her.

" May I use the powder room?" She asked. She had to let Legolas know she was in Don's apartment.

" Go ahead. Down the hall, turn left, second door on the right."

" Thanks."

She grabbed her purse and walked according to the man's instructions. Charlotte locked the door silently behind her and dialed Legolas's prepaid cell phone. There was a ring, then another. After the third and the fourth, his voice came on. All he said was " leave a message," and there was a beep.

" I'm in Don's apartment. Call me if you have any specific instructions."

Then Charlotte hung up. There was a sense of accomplishment as she put away her phone. She had actually infiltrated enemy territory and made it without being conspicuous. It wasn't much of an accomplishment, she guessed, compared to what Legolas had been doing for millenniums, but it felt great. She was doing something for real. Now that Charlotte was buoyant with satisfaction, she felt herself relax a little bit. Perhaps the bit of champagne she sipped was working its effect on her too. Whatever the cause, she was unperturbed.

When detective Charlotte walked out of the powder room, then stopped. She took off her painful heels and walked barefooted along the cold marble floor. The mellowness gave her steps a bit of a spring as she took her time strolling down the empty and cold hallway. For a moment she forgot where she was. It looked like an empty museum after hours, dark and secluded. The gorgeous apartment continued the night's theme of movies-come-to-life. Charlotte felt a teensy bit giddy; she had to do a little twirl before she turned right and entered the drawing room. Just a small twirl. Just on the tip of her feet, a little flutter of her loose strands of wavy tress. Just a little victory dance.

Miss Norwood's little performance did not go unexamined. A smile formed on the curled lips of the unseen spectator. He felt like applauding the little pirouette, but checked himself. The brunette's loosely piled hair and her slimming and simple black dress was reminiscent of some scene from a cheesy movie. The twirl, on the other hand, was rather entrancing. And that was saying something. To a cold, ashen, withered, old heart like his, it was a bit uplifting. His little rapture receded into slight nauseating sickness. The reality of his true personality set in and he grimaced as the brunette regained her composure and turned the corner and disappeared behind the heavy velvet drapery. The man retained his contortion and lurked into another dark corner where he could witness the happenings of the drawing room.

* * *

There was a slam echoing in the dark, wet alley. Emily locked the door quickly with her keys and glared at the door. Legolas was gone again, along with his cousins, without a word. She was quite sure he had come to stay this time. At least, she hoped he would. Most of their stuff were still in the little rooms, nice and neat. Why would he never tell her when he was leaving and where he was going? Come to think of it, she couldn't recall a moment when he ever told her anything about his job or duty or whatever he called it. All she knew was that he was a vigilante. That was all. 

She buried her face in the tall shirt collar and fiercely marched down the streets. Just like the other times he left without a word, she felt betrayal. Emily knew he was just being secretive like any secret vigilante would, but she felt betrayed. Tonight, of all nights, emotions bubbled up and foamed. Was she not good enough for him? Was he just toying around with her? What the hell did he keep coming back for if he was going to leave again later?

' Why the hell am I wasting my time with him!'

Why was she? Did she want something from him? Like a stray dog that wants companionship, Emily had been following Lee with wistful eyes. Companionship she did have with him -- although it wasn't exactly what she wanted -- and some other people since his frequent disappearances, but it was different with him. Lee had a trait that no one else had; he had something so soothing and tranquil that just being near the man left a residual serenity in her. All was sweet and happy in his presence. Nothing was numbing or deadening. All was perfect.

As more and more time passed, Emily wanted more than just companionship. She wanted him to stay with her and forget his tiresome crime-fighting and crusades. Why should he risk his neck to save people who didn't give a rats ass about him? Emily could never tell him that in person, but she always screamed it in her mind whenever she found his place empty.

' How much can a guy like him do anyway? He's going to be caught sooner or later…might as well as quit now and enjoy a normal life!'

Emily slowed her pace a little as she entered a well-lit region. It angered her that he was doing all of this humanitarian work at the cost of his own happiness and comfort. Moreover, at the cost of their friendship. Doing such things would only get him caught by the police sooner or later and no good would come of that. He would be arrested for whatever he was doing, then she'd be living the life she had before Lee came into the picture. She wasn't the only kid with a crappy family, but Emily really did not want to go back to that life. What she wanted was a stable, normal, happy life.

' What's he doing anyway? Spying? Citizen's arrest? How can he do vigilante work in New York without getting caught? People make mistakes! They're bound to get caught sometime!'

A thousand thoughts raced through her head, but none were comprehensible. They were all a blur, just like Lee. Who was he really and what did he do as a living?

' Please come back soon…I don't want to see your corpse in the news…'

She stood for a while, looking at a billboard far ahead. The tropical setting and the bright colors gave her a false sense of warmth. The surfer in the ad had shoulder length blond hair similar to that of Lee's. The guy's face didn't resemble Lee very much, but it made her smile a little bit. Now nice it would be to live in a warm climate with a warm-hearted person…

* * *

Aragorn tucked in each and every one of his children and sent them off to wonderland with a kiss on their innocent little foreheads. He put his arm around Adelaide's waist and turned off the lights. When they were in the second floor drawing room, the loving couple parted ways and the beautiful raven-haired woman went up the stairs alone to the third floor bedroom. Aragorn stayed behind to discuss a few things with his immortal friends. 

" Now what?" Andrew asked.

Haldir smoothed his perfect hair and relaxed a little more in his seat. " I guess the only thing that we can do is to wait for the information."

" That's not all," Legolas continued the conversation. " While we're waiting, we need to clear the locality for safety tonight to make sure your family and you will not be endangered."

Elrohir added, " Haldir, Elladan, and I will remain here for your protection."

Aragorn felt apologetic for the trouble he was putting them through. Although it was probably the right thing to do in the Elves' minds, but he felt sorry nevertheless. It was as if he was distracting them from their duties. " What can I do to help you?"

" Use your common sense, but you already knew that," said Elladan. " We don't need much. We won't even be inside your home most of the time."

" We will set up a perimeter and keep our posts. We do not think that the Gifted would dare do something reckless as to attempt an assault here, but we will be prepared nonetheless," Haldir supplemented to augment a feeling of security in Andrew.

" I appreciate all of this." Aragorn bowed his head a little as was tradition with the Númenor and Gondorians in the old days.

Legolas replied in kind. " It is the least we can do after we've asked you to risk your safety as well as that of your family."

No one spoke for the next few seconds. Naturally, Aragorn perceived it as the end of the summit and got up. " Once again, thank you."

Everyone exchanged bows, then the dark haired man walked up the stairs to join his sleeping wife. When the sensitive ears of the Elves picked up the sound of a door closing, they rose and turned off the light that was already severely dimmed down. Silently and swiftly like fluttering shadows, the four Elves glided down the stairs to the ground floor and snuck their way out of the mansion as if they had never been in here before. No tracks, no signs, nothing.

As a group, the Elves surveyed the vicinity as thoroughly and meticulously as possible for any living being. Considering the time constraint they worked under, the ethereal beings had done wonderful job in choosing very inconspicuous and unpredictable places. They would have some rest time rotating turns, but the duty would not be a piece of cake. The lives of the whole family were in their hands…they could not and would not fail.

Leaving last minute instructions, Legolas bid them good luck and farewell as he fished Charlotte's car keys from his pocket. After all of the farewells and the bows, Legolas got into the car he borrowed for this occasion and drove away towards the Big Apple.

* * *

It was a hell of a mess in Greg's apartment. It wasn't too disheveled or a pigsty, but it was a hell nonetheless. There was a look of desperation and senselessness about the air. 

Greg got off work early today, but he pissed away the precious time like a fool. All afternoon he spent his time trying to come up with the courage to even think about telling Charlotte once and for all his feelings about her. Whether she would cradle it or crush it, it was difficult to tell; however, he knew he had to get it out in the open. Greg had to consciously keep himself in line and try to function as a productive member of society. This love - or lust or whatever - was preventing him from living a normal life and it troubled him. He survived - but not without some hardship - living day by day with his own cowardice that kept him from facing what he loved and feared.

' I'll sleep on it…'

Too tired to think anymore, Greg finished off the little bit of beer left in the bottle and threw himself back onto the couch. The heavy eyelids closed over the pale pink eyes.

* * *

Don's powers of persuasion led Charlotte to sip a little more of champagne. One sip compiled on top of another and soon the black-clad woman knew she was beginning to lose control of her better self. Who knew what she would do when under the influence? 

" Thanks for the dinner, Don. I had a great night," was what she murmured under her slightly alcoholic breath. She tried to swim out of the enormous sofa that was more like a gigantic bed. Maybe it was the champagne that made it seem that way.

" You're not leaving now, are you?" Don's attempt at an entrancing voice proved a bit disastrous under the influence of expensive champagne, but it wasn't too bad considering how soft and mumbled his words were.

" It's kinda late…" Her once-capable arms failed her and she tumbled a bit on the sofa. Charlotte gave up her adventure for a while to regain stability in her gyratory vision.

Don took her hand in his and turned it palm up. His finger traced the lines on her palm onto her index finger and broke contact on the tip of her fingernail. " What happened to giving chances and not missing a moment…?" Crawling on all fours, he made his way along the three feet of distance between them and slithered up to the resting figure. Deceptively he interlocked his fingers with hers and pushed her hands far above her head. A slight brush of lips against lips…a diminutive peck on the lips, then a permanent lip-lock.

There was a little twitch, then some resistance in Charlotte's hands. Held down by a greater force and weight, her tired and incapable body gave up.

Still standing silently in the shadowy corner, the unseen guest looked on at the two figures sprawled on the big sofa. Few minutes passed before the spectator could no longer watch the game of love…or lust, as it appeared to him. His figure receded farther into the darkness and soon disappeared from the elaborately festooned apartment. All that's left were the man and the woman…and the cold, worthless, meaningless palace that was not a home.

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A/N:** Ooh, won't the next chapter be "fun" to read? 

**Please Review!**


	29. Slowly Smothering

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22. Bolded words are Elvish.

A/N: Yep, changed my nom de plume. I was having problem with previous email account, so I got a new one…and thought, well, ls.maid.en isn't exactly a penname I'm happy with. So…voila! New pseudonym. Enjoy this new chapter!

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It was a breathtaking view to behold as Legolas passed city by city in the wee hours of the early morning. The wonder lay not in raw nature, but in the change in landscape from one city to another. It was how vast length of primordial earth gave away to the encroaching borders of suburbia, then the urban downtown. Then nature reclaimed the land on the other side of the city. But from every city to city, the atmosphere changed. There were no two cities that were identical. All unique and eccentric in their own little ways, Legolas was surprised that these were only cities. In the old days, they could have been different enough to be their own nation. Well, perhaps not a nation, but at least their own city-state.

Wonder swept through him when it dawned upon him that this was only a world of Men. There were no Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Orcs, or Goblins to diversify the demographics. Men considered races, ethnicities, and nationalities as diversity; he could certainly understand it from Men's point of view, yes. However, it seemed strange that Men would consider their own kind as such diversity. Were they not all humans? Were races and ethnicities that different enough to be the equivalent of species themselves? In his days of youth, Elves were different from Men, Men from Hobbits, so on and so on. Nowadays, every _race_ was different from another… Were they really that different? Weren't they all humans?

He knew he didn't have much authority to deny such criteria as diversity; he was of a different world. Could he really judge what he did not experience? After all, understanding and experiencing were two completely separate things.

Then again, he did experience something very similar. The Elves also had their own eccentricity about their own kinsman. In a sense, he did understand and know from experience what the modern Men were thinking.

That was not the only dilemma, without a doubt. It was also frustrating that the cycle of alliance and then mistrust still went on amongst Men. The Rohirrim and the Gondorians had a close bond that deteriorated during the end of the Third Age, but it was rekindled when the War of the Rings was at its climax. It was a pity that Men could not break the cycle…yet. Perhaps when this interspecies conflict was over, Men could rethink their relationship and try to make amends.

In the end, he came to the same conclusion he reached numerous times before in the past -- some things are certain in life, but their significances vary according to how one deals with the certainties. Basically, everything was relative. Even this long, lonely trip back to the Big Apple was relatively short in comparison to the cruise from Valinor to the new Earth.

* * *

Being early Saturday morning as it were, and still dark, Emily found herself contemplating another visit to Lee's place. She was still angry in his "selfishness," but it would be a better change from her loathsome room at home. She could do her homework there until he came back…or until she had to return home. 

When Emily got to Lee's house -- if one could call it that -- she unpacked her small pile of books and notebooks. She began reading one book to take notes, but stopped halfway through a page. Her concentration was off in another world, thinking about Lee.

Why was Lee gone anyhow? There couldn't be much that he could do, so he wasn't out "fighting crime" all the time. Was he lying about being a vigilante? Was he living a double life? Maybe he was really a rich kid who wanted to pretend he was poor, like in the fairytales and the movies. Maybe he was embarrassed to show her that he was rich, so she wouldn't think he was a rich, spoiled brat from the first impression.

Or was he a psychopathic stalker? No, that couldn't be it. Stalkers couldn't act so kind all the time. A true stalker would have slipped up by now.

Then what was he? Why was he gone? Was Lee a criminal on the loose? Yet again, that couldn't be it. He was too nice. Maybe he was wrongfully accused and had to escape. He was probably on his way to a remote, rural town when he met her and…

She watched too many movies. These ridiculous stories could never be true. Well, at least the possibilities of Lee being a criminal, stalker, or a pretending rich brat were slim to none. There was no way such rare scenarios could ever be real. On the other hand, it had to be that he was living a double life. Emily never heard of a vigilante loose in the city, catching bad guys before the cops got to them. If there were such people in the world, then someone would know it to be true. But no one did. So it meant that he really wasn't a vigilante and that he had a normal life apart from his falsehood. He would have a nice little home somewhere that he went to every night after walking her to her home.

Now Emily thought of what kind of double life Lee was living. Was Lee Evergreen even his real name? Probably not. Who was he always running from? The one event that always stood out was the incident at the movie theatre. It was the only time she ever seen him hurt someone, but it was the only time he ever ran from a place. He had done no wrong, so all that could have happened to Lee was getting a "thanks" from the policemen. Did he run away for no other reason than wanting her to fall for his vigilante pretense? Or was he really running away from someone?

Maybe he had been caught by the cops before for pulling off a con. Maybe he was never in jail, but had been identified. Perhaps he was running away from someone who knew him personally in his other life?

Who could that be? Coworker? Neighbor? Friend? Family? Girlfriend? …Wife?

There were still a lot more questions in her head, but she forced them to silence for a while so her head would stop spinning. He had never expressed or insinuated any feelings for her other than friendship, but she thought it was only because she was a minor. Now she was eighteen, and wished that he would make a move. Lee had been there for her through some tough times, or at least he did until a while ago. Now that his addictive presence was infrequent and sporadic, Emily felt a comfort-withdrawal. She wanted him for herself; she wanted constant comfort and support.

Not wanting to believe for a second that Lee might already have a significant other, Emily made herself fall asleep into wonderland. Curled up in front of the books, Emily drifted off to her own little dream world.

* * *

The golden morning sun ascended slowly into its rightful place in the sky, throwing its warm sunlight all about the side of the world under its domain. Idly the yellow rays penetrated the glass window and the white gossamer curtain. It crept slowly along the lush carpet, then climbed up the wooden footboard. It disappeared for a moment in the shadow of the tall footboard, then reappeared on the length of the royal blue satin comforter. Glistening on the smooth surface, the sunlight glided across the fabric and onto a familiar skin. A hand came out from under the comforter and tried to brush away the sunlight. 

There was a moan of protest from the half-asleep form under the warm sheets. When the creature realized that the tickling warmth could not be brushed away, the hands pulled the blanket over the mussed hair. Pulling the blue form over one head uncovered an arm and half a chest on the other side of the copious bed. The chill of the early morning made the body curl.

" Damn it…"

The quiet cursing went unnoticed under the blanket. Uncurling limbs one by one, the male form woke to the coloring of the sky unfolding before his eyes. All his half-awake mind could process was that the sunlight was blinding and he must close the heavy navy blue velvet curtains to reinforce the translucent white ones.

Without further thought, the man crawled out of bed and pulled the curtains over the vast length of crystalline glass. The darkness matched the darkness of his sleep perfectly. His eyes still half-closed, the man fumbled his way across the darkened room. His toes were caught on something, so he picked it up. When the identity of the object was ascertained, he smiled roguishly. Various items of clothes were strewn all about the snow white carpet.

Soon Don's eyes were used to the dimness and he could pick his path carefully around the messy floor. He walked across the vast length of the room's floor to get to the bathroom. The door closed behind him with a click, then the muffled sound of running water came from the door's crevice. Halfway across the room, the muffled noise was already dead.

A while later, Don emerged from behind the closed door and then disappeared behind another door. A few minutes and scuffling noises later, the man walked out in his boxers. Noticing that the lump on the bed had not moved an inch, he silently made his way to the generously proportioned bed. As soon as he was on the bed again, Don got on his hands and knees over the morning-shy guest under the comforter. With one hand, the man pulled the sheets down to reveal half of the face that was asleep but tortured. He gently brushed the back of his hand to her cheek. " Wake up, Charlotte."

" Mm…"

Don smirked. He moved the renegade strands of hair from the woman's forehead and placed it along with its sisters. " The sun's up."

" Five…five more minutes…"

" Fine."

Don lay back down beside the lump and pulled the blanket over himself. For no apparent reason, he gazed at the face in front of his own. Her face seemed to be in anguish. He could guess a few reasons why, but he thought it better for his own conscience to believe that she just wanted five more minutes of sleep. Cautiously he slid one hand under her head and put the other on her back. Don drew the mass of brunette tress closer to him and pressed her warm cheek against his bare chest. His chin barely touched the top of her head, but he could feel her hair on his chin.

One eye opened slowly and suspiciously to the reality pressed against her face. She felt no desire to speak, not that she had any words to say. Charlotte couldn't quite understand what was going on. The confusion was stifling her as if she had been thrown into a very deep body of water with a lead weight chained to her legs. Slowly smothering…

All Charlotte's eyes could distinguish that she was flesh to flesh with someone, under a warm blanket, caged by a pair of arms that did not belong to her. Confusion and panic persisted even after the initial shock diminished. Perhaps it was a residual effect from her dour and mystifying nightmare of monsters, utter darkness, and perpetual drowning. Nevertheless, she made an effort to push herself off of the stranger. Her resistance was met by a counterforce. The arms did not budge.

" You still have four minutes."

Charlotte wiggled her head a bit out of his embrace and looked at his shoulder, neck, and ear. There was a feeling in her as if her heart dropped out of place and fell into her guts.

" Good morning, Charlotte…"

There were mixed emotions in her, but she decided not to be controlled by them…at least for the moment. First, she tried to calm herself down with a bit of controlled breathing. Next, she thought of a way to calmly take control of this situation. Charlotte whispered, " can you let go a little bit? You're pulling on my hair."

Don relaxed his grip and she rolled onto her back. One of his arm was still under her head. She could feel his muscles moving like piano keys on the back of her neck as his fingers traced her hairline on her nape.

" Anything you have to do today?" He asked.

" …I don't know."

" Hm." Don got out of bed and lazily strode towards a different door. Before he opened it and entered the walk-in closet, he turned back to the bed and addressed Charlotte. " I'm going to get ready and leave soon." He ran his fingers through his hair. " Take your time getting out of bed. Take a shower, eat some breakfast…take a self-guided tour, whatever you want." Disappearing behind the door, Don began to wonder how long it would take Charlotte to leave his place. Most women _really_ took their time, scrutinizing every little thing in his entire apartment. His hospitality was generally feigned.

Charlotte kind of got the feeling that he used that line on many previous occasions. She looked at the comforter, the sheets, the pillows. It was still dark in the room, but she could see the vague outlines of everything in this room. There was a feeling in her throat like a worm was crawling its way up. There was a question in her mind that loomed over everything else. How did this happen? Did she honestly drink that much champagne?

Don reemerged from the walk-in closet with black suit, black shirt, and metallic burgundy tie. He was putting on his platinum cufflinks. " See you later," he said as he barely waved his hand before walking out of the bedroom itself. The door closed silently behind him.

The brunette sat up cautiously. The chilly morning room temperature came into full contact with her bare back. Wrapping the blanket all about her as if it was a cape, Charlotte slid across the bed and sat on the edge of the bed and let her feet touch the soft carpet. As soon as she felt conscious enough, Charlotte began to fish around for her clothes. First came one shoe, then came her intimates, then the other shoe, then finally her dress. The bobby pins in her hair last night were half missing and half strewn on the bed. She gathered what she could find and placed it on the table nearby.

One by one she donned her garments, and then stopped before putting on her dress. A portion of the zipper was ripped from the fabric, rendered partially useless about the neckline. Charlotte zipped it all the way up anyway, leaving a little ripped slit at the top part of her dress. Wearily she put on her black heels and stood up.

After a quick look in the full-length mirror out in the room, she grabbed her bobby pins and her purse to leave the room. She couldn't figure out exactly which way was the right direction, so she tried every hallway and door until she found the way to the living room. There, she met a servant bringing up the cart of breakfast accompanied by a small crystal vase holding three well-trimmed red roses. The man figured she was leaving, so he bid her farewell and pushed the cart back to the kitchen. Charlotte said "thank you," got into the elevator and pushed the ground level button.

* * *

After paying her carfare, Charlotte lowered her face a little as she went into her apartment building. It was late in the morning and no one was around to give her grief about why she was dressed up and if she had spent the night at Donald Heath's place. 

Up the steps she went, feeling her legs a little weak. Halfway up, she took off her heels and walked up the rest of the way barefooted. It felt a lot more comfortable.

Soon Charlotte was on her floor and she began fishing for the right key on the key chain. She groaned in frustration just before finding the right key. When she looked up, there was someone standing in front of her door. " Who…"

" Is there another man who knows you live here?" Interjected the visitor.

' Five, actually. Six, including the chauffeur,' thought Charlotte in her mind. She didn't show this in her face. " What are you doing here, Greg?" Her voice was perturbed It was strange to see him again after all this time. He seemed a lot grungier and older than the last time she saw him.

Gregory Todd stepped aside so Charlotte could open the door. She stood still.

" I don't think you want the neighbors listening to private conversations," he said gravely.

Charlotte reluctantly unlocked the door and let him in. Greg followed her a few steps behind as she entered the living room and put down her purse on the coffee table. He scanned her over meticulously and his brows slanted a little. She felt uncomfortable under his gaze and looked away. His cogitating eyes was still glued on her relentlessly. Charlotte tried to walk away from the awkward situation, but his arm shot forth like a snake attacking its prey. His grip was so firm that her upper arm ached.

" Let go," whispered her limp voice. Charlotte was in no mood for physical contact. Her mind was still full of unidentifiable emotions.

" Where were you last night?"  
" Let go, Greg."

" I waited hours for you to come home."

" …"

" Were you at his place!"

Charlotte's face went pale. She still had so much emotions to reflect on concerning last night. She still didn't know what happened and what she felt about it. It was all a blurred chaos.

Greg saw the pallor creep up on her face. The only interpretation he could come up for it was that she was shocked by his accuracy. " I'm right, aren't I?" He now grabbed both her arms and pulled her close. " What did…" Greg's voice faltered when it registered in his head that there was only one thing she could have done with a man like Don last night. He felt disgust and trauma stun his body. He let go of Char's arms. " No…no, you wouldn't…"

Charlotte turned around to dash into her room for safety. Her torn zipper was revealed and Greg felt his numbness disappear as some sort of flame ignited within him like a blazing inferno. Greg took one giant step forward and grabbed the black-clad woman once again. Putting one hand behind her head to pull it closer to his own, Detective Todd stole a bitter kiss from Charlotte in revenge. There was no longer a desire to protect her youthful, rustic innocence. He felt he had been tantalized more than enough. If he had to shake the tree by the roots and kill the unsullied blossoms to attain even one premature fruit, he would shake the tree with all his might.

* * *

Trying to be careful during daylight, Legolas carefully parked Charlotte's car in an inconspicuous spot and put on his dark sunglasses as he got out. Slamming the door, the Elf wondered what his dear friends were doing this very moment, hundreds of miles away. He couldn't help but worry. 

Merging with the crowd's movement, Legolas managed to avoid judgmental eyes as he entered the apartment building. He had a spare key that Charlotte gave him a while ago. Up the stairs he went, heeding every movement he could feel in his immediate vicinity. A lot of people were gone, enjoying their Saturday in restaurants, theatres, and stores. Those who remained in their apartments were performing various chores and forms of leisure. It was a regular Saturday.

When he silently unlocked and opened the door, Legolas found the interior calm and quiet. Nothing was different from the last time he was in here, save for the purse and a pair of heels placed on top of the coffee table.

Legolas found Charlotte asleep like a corpse on the sofa, drowning under the yards of voluminous comforter. The way light reflected off the pale blue material reminded him of a water surface on a glorious summer day. He didn't want to wake her, but they were burning precious daylight…every drop of the golden sunlight. The Elf called out her name with a softer tone. For a moment she made an attempt to swim back to the water's surface, but Charlotte gave up and sunk again. Legolas called her name again. She finally woke up, but without yawning, groaning, or outstretch of limbs. Charlotte remained curled under the blanket.

" Pleasant dream?"

" …"

" Do you want a few minutes?"

Charlotte nodded. Reality was no more comforting than the imaginary world of the unconscious. In one, she was sinking without end; in another, she was broken in more ways than one. It seemed there was no escape from the epic tragedy that was life.

" Did you not get any sleep last night?" Asked Legolas

" I slept."

" Then are you ill?"

" …No."

He needn't know and she didn't want him to know. Charlotte was sure such superior beings could not comprehend the concept of lapse in judgment under influence. Maybe they never drank alcohol or they never got intoxicated. At any rate, her lapse in judgment caused a permanent destruction of her former self. Broken and several delicate shards mislaid along the way, Charlotte could never go back to what she once was.

Greg guessed what had happened under the influence, but he didn't see the transformation. He never understood what she once was and never will be. Perhaps it was that neglect which caused him to break her again. Knowingly or unknowingly, he smashed the remaining pieces against her objections.

Each of them had forcibly taken a fragment of her for themselves.

But for what intention? Amusement? Covetousness? Was there one to begin with?

" Do you want more time?"

Charlotte woke out of her stifling stupor. " No, I'm up."

Just when she decided to make an attempt to get up -- her body was quite unyielding due to the protracted length of time she had been in this state since Greg crushed her into pieces -- Legolas sat down in a chair himself. Charlotte settled with just sitting up. Everything ached, but she hid it all under the comforter.

" Did you dig up anything last night?" Asked Legolas. " I was going to call, but I had no reception when you called."

" I…didn't get anything useful."

" It would be difficult to find anything crucial; a meticulous man like Don wouldn't leave things lying around like a fool. What we need is a connection from Don to a high-ranking Gifted. Then we can go on to a more specific search into how they're connected, what they get out of such alliance, and hopefully a hint on what they're planning to do."

" Sure."

" I was thinking…maybe none of the Gifted near Don will recognize my presence. I think it may be worth it to risk that and monitor Don's movements. What do you think?"

Charlotte didn't know what to say. She had never gone undercover or was involved in an undercover work during her career in the law enforcement. There was no way of knowing such delicate procedures and theories behind intelligence work. Although it was common sense that such risk was reduced in an environment where there was advantage, neither Legolas nor she had a way of knowing which Gifted had felt the Elf's presence before. For him to track Don's every move would be a huge gamble. Don would be connected with the head honcho and would be in contact with the leader frequently. It was risky, but what they could gain from success was very tempting.

" Obviously you can't be seen anywhere conspicuous…how about small or low-key locations where you can have some control over the security? Anything too prominent is a disaster waiting to happen."

The Elf nodded his head slowly. " I thought so too." He looked at his watch. There was a few hours left before sunset. " Would you mind dropping my stuff off at my place?"

" Why don't you take the car?"

" Someone might think it's stolen. It's best if you keep it with you."

Nodding, Charlotte prepared to get up and ready herself for the drive to Legolas's place. She did her best to hide her discomfort as she wrapped the blanket around herself and went into her room. Despite what had happened, it was of comfort that Greg even bothered to put a blanket over her before he left. Charlotte didn't want him around her, but that act saved her from any embarrassing moments with the immortal. The bulkiness of the comforter hid her unsteady legs.

Once she was in her room and closed the door, Charlotte sat down on the bed and let loose the blanket about her neck. She shed from her old self by changing her clothes. Nothing of her former self remained save for the memories in her head.

* * *

Frank Haydn sipped from his cup and glanced at his wristwatch. There were five more minutes still until the appointed time. He leaned forward a little to look at the TV by the bar. Suddenly the news switched to a soccer game. Sighing, he leaned back and sipped his drink again. 

" Ever a workaholic," came a voice from behind him.

Frank looked up to see Saturn standing right behind him. He seemed a little different. " One's work is never done."

Saturn sat down and ran his hand through his grunge-style hair. Frank could never understand how such a sophisticated, intellectual, cultured man could live like a twenty-one year old garage band guitarist. The man's physical semblance did appear so, but his character and personality just oozed of erudite elitism. It all came down to one ultimate question behind this walking contradiction named Saturn -- why did he always pick these types of paradoxical fellows to possess?

" What do you want to drink?" Frank asked. He could tell Saturn was about to eye the room for a waiter.

" The strongest in the house."

Frank chuckled and snapped his fingers to get a waiter's attention. After placing the order, he returned his attention to his guest. " I've got a few things I need to ask you."

" Fire away."

" For one, reports of the vigilante's appearances have been reduced the last few days. Why do you think that is?"

Saturn grinned as he received his drink. He tossed down the entire content of the shot glass in one gulp. He ordered another, then spoke. " Next question?"

Frank raised a brow. Was he going to answer his questions or never answer them as he seldom did? " Why are you letting Don off his responsibilities just so he can fuck around?"

Saturn's grinning face fell a little.

Frank realized his question put Saturn on edge. Maybe he sounded a little too disparaging. He tried to make amends by rephrasing his previous sentence. " I mean, is he on some special task you've assigned him to?"

The problem with Frank's statement did not lay with the implied favoritism, but rather with the implied tomfoolery. It reminded him of the interlaced fingers, the futile resistance, and the defacing. The topic was peculiarly odd to him and it ruined the high note the booze had left him in.

" If he is, I feel obligated to inform you he's distracted and far from the bull's eye."

" How so?"

" Don's too busy feeling up some cop. He was so sidetracked that he didn't notice Andrew's chief political advisor attended the private dinner party."

" Why didn't you tell him?"

" I was stuck talking to the mayor and his entourage all night. The damned fool didn't even leave the damn table while he was there."

" Did _you_ keep an eye on Farrel Gordon?"

" Tried to. Lost track after the meal."

Saturn sipped on his drink this time. It was expected there would be some risk in letting Don run wild. Then again, it was only Farrel Gordon…or should he say Faramir of Gondor? He was definitely aiding Andrew in his work against Forte Conglomerate, but he wasn't big enough of a fish to lose sleep over. It also wasn't him that helped Andrew focus his attack on Don and Forte; the public attacks had a subliminal message that the Ungifted could not possibly conjure in their heads. Farrel was Faramir reincarnate, but he was not a Gifted. He could not possibly have sporadic visions of his former life. If someone told him of his past existence, Farrel would feel in his heart and guts that it is true -- but he did not have to believe it.

Saturn thought, ' a Gifted would not endanger himself through aiding Andrew, voluntarily or no. Only one specie would have enough fortitude and sense of righteousness to come after me…only one.'

" So what are we going to do about Don?" Asked Frank. If it weren't for Don's financial, political, and social influences, Frank would've preferred to kill off the fumbling fool long ago.

" We need him still. Relax a little until I tell you it's time. He will be of use, I promise you."

Saturn's words were enough to convince Frank. The extraordinary Gifted had never failed his kind. His methods seemed very eccentric, impossible, and sometimes imprudent. No one but himself would know the genius of his approach until the moment before the goal was achieved. Saturn knew when to take the shortcut and avoid wasting time and resource…and sleep. Other times, he would take the longest way possible; Frank had a theory that the longer Saturn's approach is, the sweeter victory and revenge would be. So far his hypothesis had not failed him.

It was from a very, _very_ extensive personal experience that Saturn knew how to approach certain matters. Having lived so long amongst Men -- hiding in their fragile society and learning their curious ways -- Saturn could predict their every move, their every thought. At least, anything that he was remotely interested in. Peculiar emotions that are exclusive to mortals were wasted on him. He learned to deal with those sensations, but just so he could continue his flawless domination. Personally, he didn't give a shit.

" Nice talking to you, Frank. I've got to go speak to Don now."

Saturn rose abruptly and glanced down at his half-finished drink. He almost took a step forward, but he stopped himself and tossed the rest of the liquid down his throat.

" Don't work yourself to death now," joked Saturn before finally leaving the place.

Frank chuckled as he finished his own drink. It was a little early in the day for heavy drinking, but he felt he needed a break away from the daily routine and the thorn in his side that was Don. He paid for the drinks on his way out and got in his car. Might as well as get drunk as a skunk, regurgitate, and clean up in his own home, he decided.

**

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**A/N: Longest chapter yet, you proud? Hopefully I can finish the next chapter soon. Ciao! 

**Please Review!**


	30. Emily

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22. Bolded words are Elvish.

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* * *

**

Adelaide smiled as she watched her children swarmed their father as if he was made of candy. Gwen, the youngest, climbed up her father's leg and settled on his lap. She hugged him in victory, then lay down as if to fall asleep. His three other children took their place either on the floor or sitting in chairs next to his. Some people might think taking care of four children was some work, but he didn't care. He loved all of his children as if there was no tomorrow. Adelaide felt the same. Eldon, Sophia, Margaret, and Gwenneth were all precious jewels they couldn't stop loving.

Almost all at once the kids starting spinning a long yarn about their day thus far. The father listened tentatively to his children, commenting on the important points the children were trying to make. Soon they were done with their daily reports and began asking him how his day was. All he said was, " I didn't have as much fun as all of you did. You've all had very exciting days!"

Soon the bell ran for the kids' snack time. The four of them all got up and raced each other down the stairs towards the dining room. Gwen began falling behind, but Eldon turned back and gave her a piggyback ride down the stairs, walking carefully. The little girl hugged her brother lovingly, smiling as they passed Margaret and Sophia as soon as they were walking on level ground.

Adelaide smiled as soon as she ascertained that none of her children injured themselves racing down the stairs. She sat down beside Andrew and placed her hand on his. " Really, how was your day?"

He took his hand in his and brought it up to his lips. After a small, affectionate peck on her palm, Aragorn smiled with a tinge of bitterness.

" As well as it can be for Forte Conglomerate's opponent."

She caressed his face with her soft fingers.

" I must be crazy to attack a man like him," murmured Aragorn. He remembered his past identity and his family's past identity. " I must be nuts."

Adelaide said in his defense, " crazy with sense of justice and right. It's about time someone stood up against the inconsiderate, greedy man. If you don't do this, no one will."

Technically speaking, the Elves were the ones really going up against Donald Heath and the Gifted. They were the ones who were digging up detailed information no one else could give him. They were the ones who would ultimately be ending their oppressive reign over humanity. What Aragorn was doing was structuring a façade which the Ungifted would have to believe. It would be impossible to explain the concept of humanity reincarnated anew upon a planet that once was home to monsters, immortals, and magical creatures. Only the lunatics would believe it, but just because they would believe anything. Even if he could explain to the world and they believed it, it would probably be against the preferences of the Valar and Ilúvatar -- as Legolas put it -- and they may alter the land, kill the living, and start the world anew. Then the only thing left unchanged would be the place Legolas called Valinor.

If the world changed…what were the chances that he would meet his wife again in his new life and have his dear children all over again?

The more important question was what were the chances that he could live safely with his wife and children if the Gifted gained domination of the world?

' Slim to none,' he thought, ' but that's one more reason why I have to go against them. I can't let them win.'

Andrew kissed his wife and took her hand as they both rose to meet their children downstairs. Adelaide noticed Andrew's grip was different. It was firmer, more purposeful, and more confident. She squeezed his hand a little more as a reassurance that she would always be there for him through thick and thin.

* * *

Don enjoyed a late lunch, although not particularly savoring the moment. He knew sometime sooner or later Saturn would sneak up on him and start asking asinine questions about this and that. The day that Saturn showed up were always the best of days…until the moment he actually showed up. Saturn may be a fun-loving guy, but to Don he was the ultimate buzz killer.

" Something to hide?"

…And speak of the devil!

" What a pleasant surprise to find you here, Don."

Don scornfully retorted, " a surprise? I doubt that."

Saturn sat down opposite him and put his feet up on the spare chair next to him. Leaning to his side on the armrest, the faux hawk-ed man glared at him with an eye-searing grin. " Bring me up to date, Don."

The powerful executive put down his glass of merlot and leaned back in his own chair. There was a satisfied smirk on his face, which was often found after crushing a pitiful competitor like a puny ant. " I still don't know why you want me to follow around that cop, but I'm enjoying this little task."

" How so?"

" She called me yesterday to give it another try."

Saturn's brow twitched for a moment in interest, but did not show it again. " Really?"

" Yeah. Took her out for dinner, got her drinking, brought her to my place… Probably went back to her place by now."

His slouching companion didn't show any additional interest in the story. Don felt his ego smarting. Did Saturn think it was easy as cake to get that woman half-dead drunk? It took some _medicinal assistance_ to bend her under his will. He had never failed before and wasn't about to break his record and bloated ego. Besides, he didn't really consider that a black mark on his perfect record of seduction. Anything unpleasant or disagreeable, Don refused to acknowledge it -- like principles and conscience. As a ruthless businessman brought up by equally merciless entrepreneurs, he learned no such things. Never having experienced it, there was no way for him to know what principles and conscience were really like and if they really were all that people made them out to be. Don believed in "by any means necessary" and "ends justify the means" approaches to life; honor, principles, and conscience were futile ideals. As far as anyone else was concerned, it all happened due to his _charisma_.

Trying not to show irritation, Don snapped at Saturn. " _Anyway_, I'm relishing your recommendation."

Saturn's hand twitched under the table. That idiot… Sauron could figure from his actions, emotions, and thoughts that Don had gone the whole nine yards. The fool was supposed to court her, yes, but he didn't expect Don to go that far. It was expected that Don would have trouble getting to her, but that was the point. Don was supposed to keep Charlotte at such a distance that information could be gathered without involving deep emotions. He wasn't supposed to go far beyond the kissing relationship.

Perhaps it was not lost yet. Maybe there was a way to get her back…back to uncover information. Saturn didn't put Don on this mission so he'd be entertained. He had a hunch that this woman had at least seen the Elves at one point or another. Whether she knew them personally or for business, as humans or Elves, that was for him to figure out at a later time. Now, all that concerned him was 'could she be lured back willingly for coaxing or would he have to kidnap and interrogate her?'

" Do you think you can meet her again?"

Don raised a brow in interest. " Why?"

" Don't question me, Don. Just tell me, do you think you can?"

The human squinted his eyes a little as if that would exact an answer out of the enigmatic man before him.

" Answer me…"

" Sure." Don lost his appetite and good mood. He couldn't wait until the world was in his grasp…then Saturn better watch his ass!

" Call her. Meet her tonight."

" Why don't _you_ meet her, if you're so anxious?"

" I know you're trying to reassure your own self-esteem through callous words, but at this point it's all talk and no game. If you don't have the guts to do what I ask you to do or to face that woman again, then just give me her number. I don't want you messing things up by doing a half-ass job."  
That got Don's ego spurred. " _I _can do it."

A small grin returned to Saturn's face. " Then take her to this address." he slid a piece of paper across the table and got up. " I'll be monitoring your activities this time, so behave."

Don grimaced behind Saturn's back. ' You think you can control me, but just you wait…when the time is right, I'm going to get revenge for your insolence tenfold!'

* * *

Donald Heath and Saturn shared a very peculiar relationship between them. They were neither competitors nor business partners; friends nor enemies. They definitely had a deal between them, but it was understood -- without engaging in a verbal banter -- that they both had something to benefit from each other's company.

_It was by accident that Saturn met Don face to face. The Maia was enjoying his drink at the invitation of a powerful Gifted, taking in the scene of the high class society. He was sitting in the best seat of the house at the expense of his associate, musing about the decadence of humanity that his meddling had brought on. Suddenly the owner of the restaurant came and pleasantly asked if they could move to a different table. Saturn's associate was baffled and refused to give in. His exact words, if he recalled correctly, were " I paid for this table, you fuck-hole" and " tell the little fucker to fuck off and show off to his whore somewhere else." _

The long delay made the other guest curious and he walked over to the crème de la crème table of the house. Who else should it be but Donald Heath, the sole owner of world's most powerful corporation?

Saturn's friend got up and started pointing fingers and shouting, obviously a little tipsy from his alcoholic drinks. Don took it well, smiling a little actually. That ticked off the Gifted even more and was on the verge of teaching the little prick a lesson. Saturn stopped him with a snap of his finger and got up himself. He said, " I like your attitude, kid. What's your name?"

Don scoffed and glared at the scruffy-looking man in dark jeans, a plain tee, and leather jacket. " Donald Heath, CEO of Forte Conglomerate. Who the hell are you?"

The Gifted threw a fist but Saturn caught it without even turning his head. Don was impressed. The fist was clearly out of the man's peripheral vision, and he didn't even turn his head to catch the flying fist.

" Saturn."

Sneeringly Don put his hands in his pockets and looked him up and down like a social lowlife. The jeering expression was getting his companion's blood boiling.

" I don't even know why they let you in this establishment with your threads, but you obviously don't belong in a place like this. Why don't you crawl back to where you belong and empty the table for people who can make good use of it?"

This time Saturn chuckled in derision. Don was offended.

" You're making a fool of yourself by trying too hard. Just give it up," Saturn commented.

Don snapped back. " Go fuck yourself!"

It was obvious now that this quarrel couldn't be settled without making a big scene. The Maia stared at Don for just a moment and that was more than enough to make Don realize he could not win this fight. Inwardly startled by the words Saturn put in his head, Don did his best to hide his shock and save his face by making a fierce exit.

" You're not worth it," Don shouted. He turned on his heels and stormed out with his entourage, steaming and grumbling like a madman.

Saturn thought to himself, ' that brash fool is going to come in handy someday, I can tell…'

True to his thoughts, Don showed potentials as a sort of an ally and a financial backer. Saturn's right hand man, Frank Haydn, was surprised by the sour encounter. He told his leader of what financial and political benefits such an alliance could yield. If Don was manipulated correctly, they would receive the money, the technology, the intelligence, and the political protection that surpassed their current assets. " The possibilities are endless," Frank put it.

It took little words to cajole the young and the foolhardy. Actually, it was that look of supremacy that finally tipped the human over. The details of the agreement would be worked out during the next few weeks and Saturn entrusted Frank to be his liaison. Another duty of his was to look after Don and clean up any mess he left behind. It was a menial task that was too simple and demeaning for a capable man like Frank, but Saturn could not trust anyone else to handle this situation with seriousness and brutal precision. It was dangerous to keep anyone too close and make them arrogant, but there was no other choice. Saturn couldn't do it _himself_.

Over the recent few years, it was revealed to Don at Saturn's bidding that the Gifted were more than just an underground crime syndicate. Through the information that the Maia fed him, Don saw that this alliance served the purpose of aiding complete world domination in all possible aspects. As long as Don provided the things Saturn asked for, he would be taught the path towards world supremacy through means of economics and politics. Just as Saturn guaranteed him, it was coming true with the rampant exponential growth of his company in size, worth, and power.

As Mr. Heath spent more time around the Gifted -- who by the way never revealed whether or not he even _had_ a last name -- he realized that Saturn was the type of man who thought things far into the future with the most precise details. Although there was no reason for Saturn to kill Don after the coup d'état of the current governments, the businessman could not and would not trust the man. The Gifted didn't have the business sense to make enough money to continue his world domination; he needed Don to supply the money and equipment in exchange for no-holds-barred monopoly. However, Don wasn't satisfied with what Saturn guaranteed him and knew would come true. No, he wanted more.

Don had a more insidious strategy planned out for Saturn and the Gifted. What he really wanted was to rid the world of them and have Earth all to himself. It wasn't impossible. He already had most of the world in his hands through his corporation. Don could actually control the world politically and monetarily, he was sure. The only thing that stood between the current supremacy and absolute ascendancy was to get rid of those opposed to him. …And the Gifted could do that for him.

Saturn expected Don to have such thoughts, and knew he did. The diminished Maia predicted it was only a thought and could never become anything more. Donald Heath was too weak and slow to be a potential threat. Sauron would kill him long before Don even had a chance.

* * *

As soon as Charlotte put the gear in parking, her cell phone rang. Legolas fished it out of her purse and handed it to her. It was Don.

" Go ahead, answer," said Legolas.

Charlotte winced a little in aversion just before pressing "yes" to accept the call. The Elf eavesdropped on this conversation with his extraordinary hearing ability.

" Is this Charlotte Norwood?"

" Yes."

" It's me, Don. Listen, I'm sorry I left early today and didn't stay to talk about what happened last night."

Legolas raised a brow in confusion and curiosity, but Charlotte missed it. Soon he relaxed his muscles and returned to his nonchalant facial expression.

" …It's okay."

" Look, I want to make it up tonight. I was thinking we could talk about it over dinner?"

Charlotte glanced over at Legolas. He nodded his head. If they were going to a restaurant, it would be relatively safe for him to follow them about. But that wasn't Charlotte's concern.

" Sure."

" Meet me my apartment building's foyer at seven. We'll go together from there."

She glanced at Legolas again. The Elf nodded in reassurance. He would find a way, there was no doubt.

" Okay."

" Great. I'll see you at seven, good bye."

" …Bye."

She hung up and sat still for a moment. Legolas thought it best to give her a moment, but time was flying by.

" Can you open the trunk?"

Charlotte regained her composure and quickly turned off the engine and took out her car keys. The two got out and she opened the trunk.

" Here," said Charlotte. She grabbed a bag in efforts to divert her attention from hundreds of thoughts crossing her mind.

" It's okay. I can get it."

Legolas tried to be his usual courteous and well-mannered Elf and attempted to take the bag. She would not let go of it. Charlotte had a death-grip on it as if it contained the last of her beloved possessions.

" …Okay. Follow me."

He closed the trunk and led the way, his dark clothes amalgamating with the dim alley. What little of his golden locks that peeped from under his bandana and button-up shirt collar glowed like soft sunlight. Charlotte followed silently with the bag, feeling it a little heavy.

' I should have grabbed a lighter bag…'

Legolas took out his key and unlocked the door. Charlotte took in a breath, knowing this was the first time she entered the sanctuary of the impeccable immortals. It did look rundown, but perhaps they did an interior renovation.

He turned the knob and pushed the door. He held it open for Charlotte to enter. She smiled in thanks and entered his humble abode without second thought. When Legolas took a step, he experienced a _very_ close encounter with the back of Charlotte's head near his neck. The curious Elf looked forward and saw why the detective had stopped abruptly.

" Hello…Emily," Legolas mumbled trippingly.

" Who…who is she?" There was a bit of a tremble in her voice as she stared at Charlotte. Emily had just woken from a dreamless sleep, but she remembered every one of her morbid thoughts prior to falling asleep. The possibilities of finding out Lee belonged to another woman…

No more aware of what was going on, Charlotte naturally assumed Lee trusted her as he trusted the Elves. Whether she was also an Elf, Charlotte was not sure, but something about her just did not click with that notion. While silence ensued for a moment, Charlotte inconspicuously elbowed Legolas to make her excuses. He did not flinch, but spoke very calmly.

" She's a friend. What are you doing here?" He asked. By now Legolas hoped that Emily would have given up on him by now, or at least try to forget him.

" I was waiting for you," she replied with a tear-choked voice. " Why do you keep disappearing without telling me where you're going?"

Legolas took the bag from Charlotte's hands and motioned for her to step outside for a moment. Charlotte tried not to stare at Emily, but she could not help but wonder who this girl was. She obviously knew Legolas, but he had never mentioned her. According to what the girl said, he was having some trouble handling her. When he closed the door behind her, she just sighed and went to the other side of the narrow alley to rub the blood back into her hands and wait to be invited back into the house.

Meanwhile, Legolas found himself in a predicament as Emily fidgeted and stared at him for some sort of explanation.

" Emily, you should go home," Legolas muttered.

" Why? Why do I have to go? You always let me stay as long as I wanted."

" This is not a good time…"

Emily's glare grew sharper and Legolas could feel the point of it poking at him.

" Why?" Emily asked. " What changed?"

" Nothing."

Emily shrieked with a tone of bitterness, " then why do _I_ have to leave? Why can't that woman leave!"

Legolas set aside the bags and tried to coerce Emily to sit down in order to have a cool, calm conversation. She did not budge, but just stared right up into his eyes.

" You're being unreasonable, Emily. Sit down and we'll talk like adults."

The girl's hand came up above her head, shaking as if she was freezing. Emily tried to restrain from slapping him, and Legolas saw that she wanted to. When her self-control finally let up, the Elf did not dodge her pale hand.

" _Now_ you see me as an adult? Where was _that_ all along? You want me to be an adult about it now that you've been caught!"

The elvish princeling knotted his brows and looked down at her with confusion. Had she found out about his true identity? How? When?

" Wha…what?"

Emily's glare grew hot when she saw that he was surprised she knew. " You think I don't know! I couldn't quite figure it out before…but now that you've brought that bitch along, I know!"

Legolas sensed that Emily was not quite on the same level as he was. Whatever she was speaking of, he knew it was not about his being an Elf. " What are you talking about?"

" You toyed with me when you already had a girlfriend! Or is she your wife?"

There was a sudden urge to laugh aloud, but the Elf managed to hold it in along with his long sigh of relief. Only for Emily's sake did he maintain his calm; inside, Legolas was only too happy that she did not find out his true identity. However, this was a dilemma of its own. He always knew that something like this could very well happen, but likewise he always found an excuse to avoid planning for such situations. All in all, it was his fault for returning here and letting this happen.

" Is this some kind of sick joke you two are playing on me!"

Legolas placed a finger on her quivering lips and placated her surging anger with his soothing elven touch. There was fury in her eyes still, but the rest of her were quite tranquil and in peace. He had no idea she had such strong feelings about him, but it did not matter. It could never happen and he had no interest in furthering this relationship towards that direction. What he was a mentor and a simple friend; no more, no less. How Emily elaborated on this core relationship, Legolas could vaguely guess. Nevertheless, he was not willing to destroy her independence through playing along with her fantasy. He could not subdue his own life and purpose because a girl _thought_ she had something with him. Emily just wanted someone to protect and take care of her; she was not really in love with him and neither was he. Sadly, this was something Emily would have to get over and forget. Now that he let this go on this far, Legolas could never meet her again and endanger what was left of his mission and her life.

It was time to make a clean break.

The immortal took a step back so she could see more than just his face. " Emily…you had to have known that I wasn't going to be here forever."

Her eyes glazed and tears began swelling in her eyes.

" You were living your own life before we met, but you suddenly began to depend on me for comfort and assurance. I can't give those things to you because they're not mine to give."

Emily closed her eyes and began to shake her head slowly in denial. Two drops of sparkling tears rolled down her cheeks, uniting under her chin.

" You have to find yourself again and try to recover what you've lost -- without me."

The young woman ran to him with her arms wide open, embracing as if to confine him in her encirclement. She whispered in tearful, hoarse whisper, " Lee…please don't leave."

He tried to undo her arms around him, but did not want to hurt her in the process. She knew he wouldn't hurt her; Emily held on tighter than before.

" Emily, don't do this. You'll regret it."

" I can't and I won't. It's too late."

The longer Legolas kept still, the more hope Emily gained. He exclaimed, " you're making this harder on yourself!"

Trying his utmost to remove her without inflicting pain, the Elf pulled her hands off of him with a special trick. He led her at an arm's distance to the couch, then made her sit. Emily didn't seem to resist it now, but continued to shed tears.

Without a word, Legolas began to gather his things. Anything that was of importance of value, he shoved them in duffle bags without thought. Fortunately the three Elves had most of the belongings with them and Legolas did not have to bother himself with a long mental list of things to pack. When the place was bereft of the scarce signs of occupancy, Legolas grabbed all of the bags in his hands as if they were featherweight.

" I didn't want it to end like this, but it _has_ to end. Good bye, Emily."

The girl had half a mind to run after him and try to block the door. However, she decided against it. The air that floated her and her hope deflated in a second and she was hurting too much to go after Lee. The descent to reality was harsh, but not paralyzing by all means. It hurt her, but it made her snap out of the trance-like lie she was living. His presence and kindness had her dazed and hypnotized. Lee was all she thought of and wanted. Emily never considered for a second that perhaps what she really wanted and only needed was someone to share her thoughts with. He was there for her when her family wasn't and he didn't have to say a word to soothe her. Lee Evergreen was her anchorage and shelter -- something her own family did not provide to her.

Legolas opened the door and turned around to check up on Emily. She was crying, but not heart-broken; the girl finally realized what was weighing her down. Her choice to not come after Legolas was her first step into shedding the bonds of false worship of false contentment. Without another word, he closed the door noiselessly behind him and headed for Charlotte's car. Norwood followed without question and took a few loads off his hands.

As soon as all the bags were in the trunk, Legolas and Charlotte sat silently inside the car. Stealing quick glances at the stoic immortal, Charlotte fidgeted with the keys dangling behind the steering wheel. Legolas came to when he looked at his watch and realized it was nearing seven o'clock.

" We better get going," stated the Elf.

Although dying of curiosity on the inside, Charlotte started the car without asking what happened inside the building. Whatever it was it couldn't have been good. After all, he did come out with an extra bag in a hurry and the whole purpose of coming to this place was to drop him and his things off. As a woman, she could guess the event that had transpired in her absence; as an outsider, she questioned her intuition as just being drunk on Hollywood fictions.

" We've got just enough time to get ready before you have to go," Legolas added as he gazed out the side window.

Charlotte glanced over at him, then returned her eyes back onto the road. She returned to the reality of tonight's importance and dangers and fears. There was no time to wonder about Legolas and his friend right now. If her concentration strayed, everything would be laid vulnerable to the external elements. Whatever was left of the past, Charlotte had to hold on to it. She had nothing else, not even a hopeful future to look forward to -- all she had were paramount pressures of espionage and reconnaissance, a critical battle of good versus evil, and very good chance of a not-so-good death.

' Some heroine's fate,' she thought grimly to herself.

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Please Review!


	31. Quiet Before the Storm

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22. Bolded words are Elvish.

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**Legolas watched Charlotte walk out of her car and walk into the foyer of Don's apartment building. As soon as she disappeared from the darkening streets, the Elf relaxed a little in his seat. Through his phone, he could hear the happenings inside the building through Charlotte's cell phone in her purse. 

It was not long before Charlotte found Don standing several yards away from her. He grinned faintly, but she tried to ignore how much it unsettled her. Every step she took closer to him was like inching closer to the edge of a wooden plank on a pirate ship.

"Hello," Don commented as he shifted his hands from behind him to reveal a plain white daisy in his hand. "This is for you."

Charlotte's hand shook as it reached forth to grab the daisy. When her fingers wrapped around the green stem, Don's hand enfolded her trembling hand.

"I've got a surprise for you!" Don exclaimed, leading her out of the building.

Legolas surveyed the area and found a black limousine waiting to depart. Soon Charlotte and Don appeared from the doors and soon they disappeared into the black mass.

The Elf sighed as he started the engine. 'Oh, no…'

Soon the car pulled away and Legolas followed them, trying to predict where they were going. He was prepared for any sort of surprises during this task, but the Elf preferred to have what he expected.

* * *

"Where are we?" Charlotte asked as Don opened the limousine door. He stepped out and offered his hand. Charlotte stepped out of the car without his aid, too nervous and curious to even realize his hand was right there. When she looked about, what she found was a little picnic under a cluster of trees decorated with lots of little white lights. It could have been romantic, but it wasn't. 

As the two made their way to the picnic, Legolas followed them from a safe distance. Hiding in one of the bigger trees far away, the Elf kept an eye on them. Now that the location had changed from an urban to a somewhat rural setting, he doubted if he could obtain any valuable information now. Still, there was hope that Don would slip.

Several minutes flew by as Don made small talk to Charlotte. Both were asking heavily disguised questions in order to coax something out of the other. It was obvious to anyone that neither were enjoying this little outing. Nevertheless, they kept up the pretense.

From a distance, Saturn emerged from the shadow and walked up to the limousine chauffer. "How long have you been here?" He asked.

"Only about ten minutes," answered the chauffer. He offered to open the door for Saturn, but the Maia refused.

"I think I'd rather prefer a front row seat," he joked. Saturn lit a cigarette and strode forth nonchalantly. Halfway through, he felt a sickeningly fair presence drifting about the cold night air. He recognized who it was and where the aura was originating from. Now there was no doubt in his mind that this Charlotte woman was working for the Elves. Why else would the elven one-ninths of the Fellowship stalk a mortal woman? 'This ought to be fun,' he thought. 'I wonder if he would jump at me and end all of this tonight or stay in hiding like a coward and drag this on until it is too late.'

Saturn sauntered across the grass to the little spot under the lighted trees. He sensed no movement from Legolas's position.

Don looked up in surprise. What the hell was he doing here?

Charlotte followed Don's actions and looked up at the stranger who walked up beside them. Dressed as if he was a grungy rock star, this dark brown haired man looked down at her with a strange glint in his eyes. She instinctively reached for her side, but realized she did not have her gun beside her anymore.

"Who's your friend, Don?" Saturn asked casually.

Glaring at Saturn, Don answered hesitantly, "Charlotte Norwood…"

Before the rich man could introduce her further, Saturn offered his hand for a plain handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Charlotte. I'm Saturn."

Confused as to what was going on, Charlotte awkwardly took his hand and gave it a squeeze that was more hostile than playful. There was no sign of pain, surprise, or anger in Saturn's grinning face.

Legolas watched this from far away, fully aware that this newcomer was really Sauron. Never had he expected the diminished Maia to make an appearance tonight. Now there was nothing predictable about tonight and he was at a complete loss as to what he should do. He could try to attack him now, but there was no way of knowing what powers he still retained. All the Elf had now were his White Knives and nothing else.

The Dark Lord sat down beside Charlotte and reached across her to get to the bottle of champagne. Charlotte was almost sure she saw flames in his eyes as he smirked at her, his face so closer to her own. A dreadful chill ran down her spine and she flinched. The man named Saturn sat upright again and held the champagne bottle before her face.

"Do you want some before I finish it off?"

Her face was almost white and blue with shock as she passed up on the offer. Saturn asked the same for Don. When no one wanted it, he put his lips to the bottle and began drinking a profuse amount of alcohol with each gulp.

"Your loss," he retorted.

"What are you doing _here_, Saturn?" Don asked. He hated surprises, especially ones that involved Saturn.

"Well, I'm drinking the champagne you two were neglecting."

Don felt spiteful. If Saturn was going to show up, why did he have to be here? What was the point?

"You know what…this picnic blows. No one's eating, drinking, or _really_ talking," Saturn commented. "This shit only works in movies."

Don replied, "it could've worked if you hadn't shown up."

"Don't blame me, Donnie. I came to save the nice lady from boredom."

Legolas looked down on the three picnickers. He could see Charlotte becoming rigid under the foul atmosphere that Sauron's presence was making. She was either ready to faint or run away, if her legs would cooperate. The Elf wanted to free her from the paralyzing presence of the fallen Maia, but could he really reveal himself to Sauron?

Swiftly and surely the noises in his ears began to die down as a new sound reverberated softly. There was nothing but the faint sound of flames flickering and an even softer voice murmuring a familiar phrase. The words stirred a certain trepidation within him as he focused on the voice. Now it was calling his name…

'Who are you!' Legolas shouted within his mind, although there was a feeling he already knew this man. His own voice inside his head echoed a little before it dimmed down.

'Can you not guess…?'

The sound of flames grew louder. Legolas looked down to where the three people sat, but the outlines of their forms wavered like fire in the wind.

'…Ash nazg durbatulûk…ash nazg gimbatul…ash nazg thrakatulûk…agh burzum-ishi krimpatul…'

'…Sauron!'

'Yes…I still have the power to communicate within minds. I still retain many of my former powers!'

The Elf attempted to jump off the tree branch, but his body did not obey. His limbs were frozen by Sauron's remnant powers; only his body from the neck up--save for his vocal chord--was free to move about as he wished.

'Don't even bother trying, Elf.'

Legolas clenched his teeth together. 'What do you want?'

'Well,' Sauron chuckled, 'we both know what both of us are after; we both know what the other is going to do. By the looks of it, it's going to be one hell of a boring trip to end of the world. Hell, I just want to take things up a notch!'

'This isn't a game, Sauron!'

'Oh, I agree. But just because the apocalypse is coming it doesn't mean that we can't make it a little interesting!'

Legolas glared at the back of Sauron's head. 'You've changed. You're not what you once were.'

Saturn's arm came up from beside him and wrapped around Charlotte's rigid shoulders. His head turned back towards Legolas and there was a smile and a flash of eyes. 'I'm still me. I'm just not as stubborn as I once was. Having to hide amongst the mortals and manipulating them to get my way, I've become more lax and patient than before. I know more about myself than anyone can ever know about oneself.' He then glared at Legolas with fiery eyes. 'But now that you and your _fair_ kindred have come to stop me, I am quite displeased. And I _don't_ like being displeased. That is why I want to make things a little interesting…and see the expression on your faces as I conquer the world, just when you thought you maybe had a chance. Even dark lords need their fun, don't you agree?'

Legolas shot an icy glare at the Maia, trying his best to break free from the muscle-freezing trance. 'The fate of humankind isn't a game, Sauron! You toyed with their unity and doom twice before…have you learned nothing!'

There was no apparent anger in Sauron's eyes or face. He just stared at Legolas with a discomforting blank expression that left Legolas truly disturbed; the Elf could not guess his thoughts and _that_ was the disturbance factor.

'I've learned that victory is sweeter when conquering an even match. I'm not going to have you go down in flames before you have a decent chance against me.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Don't you think I know that you're alone in New York City right now? That you've convinced Elessar's reincarnation to do your public biddings? Can you not guess what is happening while you're here being a peeping Tom?'

Legolas could guess what Sauron was speaking of, but did not want to believe it. Instead, he tried to assure himself that his companions would whisk away the Earl-Harris family before something bad happened. Could they?

'Ah, I know what you're thinking of. Dozens of cars filled with the Gifted and their weapons, all ready to deploy whenever I command them to. But don't worry; I won't give the green light until you have arrived there.'

Dumbstruck, Legolas asked, 'why? Why would you do that?'

'I'm just having one of those moments of benevolence. Take advantage of my momentary oddity; it won't come around again.'

Legolas did not want to believe Sauron. There was no way he could be telling the truth, for evil gives birth to evil and words are only words--nothing more. 'I cannot trust you.'

Sauron shrugged his shoulders. 'It's your loss, then. Look. I will let this woman leave as a gesture of good will, how's that?'

His arm slipped from Charlotte's shoulders and she shuddered as she was free of his terrifying grasp. The detective began to make incoherent pretexts to excuse herself from the immobilizing aura. Charlotte stumbled her way off of the picnic blanket and began walking rapidly away from the scene. When she was past the parked limousine, she began to run as if her life depended on it.

The possessed body cackled. 'Did I do something to frighten her?'

Legolas found this gesture to be quite unlike Sauron's old self. Back in the days, Sauron would have killed both Charlotte and him this moment and went after the other Elves and the Earl-Harris family without a second thought. The elven prince wanted to believe him because he wanted the chance to save his friends. His only options were either trust Sauron's words and go help his friends as soon as possible, or risk the lives of his friends and take a chance at eliminating Sauron right here and now. Frankly, the lives of his friends were not something he believed he had the right to risk. 'Alright…I will take your offer just this once. Unfreeze me.'

Legolas regained control over his body and jumped off of the tree branch with grace as if nothing had happened to his body before. Cautiously and slowly he walked away from the scene, maintaining his focus on Sauron. Don, completely unaware of the supernatural happenings around him, got up and stormed out in rage. The mortal muttered curse words as he made his way to the limousine. He was dateless, angry, and ignored--all of which he hated.

Sauron rose himself, grinning still as he looked ahead into the dark and wooded area. He could see the Elf backing away, but stopping every now and then in doubt. The Maia knew the Elf was having hell of a time trying to decide whether to trust the Dark Lord or to go with his gut instinct. That was precisely why Sauron was doing this; he wanted to toy with his prey and torment them until they no longer served him a purpose. The conquest of Earth was no game to him, but what he did to mankind along the way to total conquest was certainly a deliciously cruel game.

"Really, I'm not doing anything here. If you don't want to believe me, that's your loss!" The Maia picked up the bottle of champagne and chugged down the last of the sparkling golden drink. He threw the bottle down and smashed it to pieces.

The Elf halted as the bottle shattered. There was a poorly hidden impatience within Sauron. The treacherous thing was waiting for him to leave…but why? Was he planning an attack during Legolas's absence? 'I'm going to regret trusting him, but I can't bear to even risk losing my friends…' The softly shimmering immortal kept his eyes fixed on Sauron as he turned away from him, but soon looked away as he ran full speed to Charlotte's car.

Legolas was going to go save his friends.

Sauron chuckled as he slowly walked away towards the sidewalks. He couldn't help but laugh in knowing that the foolish Elf truly risked the chance of an immortal's lifetime to attempt saving his friends who would die even without him by their side. There was no way he could fail now. The world was now his…

* * *

Legolas's tension was almost palpable as he drove, frustrated at himself for so many reasons. He tried not to fall prey to the sort of anger Sauron tried to instigate, but it was near impossible with all of the things going on in his head. 

The hours felt like days as the sceneries passed him by. Now that he was alone with his thoughts in his mind, Legolas began to formulate plans of defensive retreat. The real question, however, was whether or not Sauron was truly good for his words. After all, he was a mastermind of evil and deceit and could never trust his words as a straightforward truth. The fallen Maia's impatience now weighed in the Elf's mind. The act of violence was to be expected in such situation from such a being, but there was a momentary slip of self-discipline--very imperceptible, but it was there. A hardly noticeable glint of eyes and a slight curl of the corners of his lips…Sauron was finding Legolas's loyalty to friends amusing. Why it was amusing, only Sauron knew, but the possibilities were endless.

Legolas brushed away the distracting thoughts in order to focus on helping his dear friends. If anything happened to them, he could never forgive himself.

* * *

By the time Legolas arrived at the Earl-Harris mansion, they were snugly sleeping without a care in the world. The three Elves were awake and guarding the manor. They were not exactly happy to see him, for he came unannounced and _that_ meant trouble. 

Legolas parked Charlotte's car in an obscure part of Aragorn's residence and walked out. The three immortals came out of their secret sentry posts to greet their friend.

"**What trouble brings you here at this hour?**" Asked Elladan.

The other two looked to him for an answer. They all had looks of deep concern in their star-filled eyes.

"**I bring you tidings of impending attack upon us**," Legolas began. "**Sauron has given us some time for preparation**."

The Elves looked at him with confusion. Sauron?

"**I will explain in Aragorn's presence. Let us go to him now, for time is precious**."

* * *

"…That is why Sauron has given us time to prepare for the coming attack," Legolas finished. 

The three Elves and Aragorn looked down a little in pensive thoughts. They could not completely understand Sauron's reasoning, but they were thankful nevertheless in having this time to arrange for an escape. As long as they had a chance to evacuate Adelaide and the children, the Elves and Aragorn had no objections to fighting the Gifted.

"Is there a safe place you family can be relocated to?" Haldir asked.

Aragorn thought for a moment. "Adelaide's parents own a ranch couple hours west of here. It's being renovated, but the overhaul should be on hold for this week."

Legolas questioned, "so as far as outsiders are concerned, it's closed, right?"

"Yes."

"Perfect," said Elladan, "then Arwen and the children should leave now while it is still dark. You should go with them, Aragorn, so you may watch over them."

Aragorn's brows knotted a little. Someone should watch over his family, but he did not want to leave the Elves. They had done so much for him…the least he could do was help them just this once. When he turned his face, Aragorn saw Adelaide standing in a dark hallway. Her eyes looked right through him and saw the look in his eyes; she knew what he was thinking of. There was a bit of fear in her eyes. He saw it…he felt it. Now his determination shook at its very foundation. Family? Or Friends and humanity?

"Aragorn…go with your family," Elrohir whispered. "Watch over them; protect them…be with them."

Andrew--rather Aragorn--glanced at his wife standing in the black shadows. There was a quaint feeling of déjà vu as he saw the pale figure of his wife engulfed in sinister darkness. Once again the fate of his love was tied with the fate of the Enemy.

"They need someone to hold on to. Go with them," Elrohir repeated. He and his twin glanced over to where the elf-like footsteps of Arwen's reincarnation was last heard. There was a pair of silver tear trails on her cheeks, but her eyes were not full of despair or fright. Adelaide loved and trusted Andrew just as Arwen did with Aragorn. They were an eternal pair; they were soul mates.

"Alright…I will take them," he said as he rose. Aragorn bowed to his elven brethren as a sign of respect, and wishing of luck to them in their impending battle. There was a feeling of sudden black emptiness in his chest, but his heart was still beating strong. They would survive; they would triumph. There was no doubt about it.

After that was decided, Andrew and Adelaide were busy in packing the absolute necessities for their hopefully temporary trip to the place were grass was still green and the sky was still blue. They rounded up their children and set them inside an inconspicuous vehicle still half-asleep.

The couple stood before the Elves and exchanged ambiguous farewells. Adelaide--only subconsciously aware of a connection between the twins and herself--only shook hands cordially with the twins and the other two Elves. The twins felt their throats swell and choke back words of comfort meant for Arwen. Being flustered by their emotionally frenzied state, they tried to hold it all back…including the instinctual desire to hug her for what could be the last time. All of the long and tormenting years they spent apart--unaware of other's existence--and now they were finally face to face…but they could not share an embrace or even words. How it pained them to send off their one and only sister with a simple bow…

But she was with Aragorn and her children. She was with her _family_.

Aragorn exchanged brotherly embraces with the Elves and ensured the twins that Arwen and the children would be safe with him. Elrohir and Elladan knew he spoke no lie and trusted him to keep safe the family from any and all harm. Aragorn could do it; he had to.

The Heir of Elendil reiterated to Haldir and Legolas the instruction he was given. He was to wait for a call from either one of the Elves before returning. If no call came within a day or two, he was to make the attack known to the public and seek safety through the media's focus. If he was on the news every now and then, the Gifted would not easily dare to hurt him or anyone remotely connected to him. Any such action would be seen as some sort of conspiracy to eliminate Andrew and those connected to him.

The young parents entered the car and started the engine. The vehicle pulled away. In the darkness, the Elves saw the small figure of young Gwenneth waving her little hand.

Soon the car was out of even their elvish sights. Now they turned to prepare for the attack that would come too soon.

* * *

In the artificially-lit city miles away, there was a happening of its own while the Elves were planning and sending the Earl-Harris family off to some farm. 

Charlotte ran hastily, fueled by fear of the danger that she left behind. Once she stopped to take off her low-heeled shoes, but soon she continued her marathon to the streets. The minutes she spent running felt like hours, but thankfully she found a cab and dived in. She gave the address to her home and sat back limply, catching her breath and resting her tender bare feet.

When she arrived at her apartment building, she dashed up the stairs and slammed her apartment door. Even with two locks, she did not feel safe. The haunting hand was still on her shoulder and Charlotte shivered. She mustered enough strength to snap out of the frightful reverie and pushed the couch against the door. Hopefully that would hold off any intruder.

Charlotte locked herself inside her bedroom and sat on her bed. Rocking back and forth, she incessantly brushed her shoulder as if the hand was still creeping beside her head. Her pistol was laying beside her, but not too close.

A few rays of moonlight filtered through the curtain and cloaked Charlotte with a muted silvery-white gossamer of light. It felt strangely like a warm and soft hand caressing her tensed back…but there was no one in the room. The caress so gentle sent her to sleep void of nightmares and thoughts.

* * *

Charlotte's blank dreams suddenly morphed into scenes of raining blood, fire, and jagged rocks…then there was a small black circle that grew bigger until it engulfed everything. All was black, even when she opened her eyes. 

The moonlight was gone and the entire room was as black as a starless, moonless night. She reached for her gun, but a strange force pulled it back out of her hand. Suddenly, Charlotte felt herself being raised up, then floating upright above the floor. She shrieked and tried to move her arms and legs. There were stiff as if she had been dead for hours.

Then came a voice from a dark void. "Shh…"

A cold finger pressed lightly against Charlotte's lips and she could not scream, she could not move, she could not resist. From the darkness emerged the tall figure of a man--Saturn.

Levitating through some unexplainable force, Charlotte looked at the man who now came to eye-level with her. Dark haired and dark eyed, this pale fleshed man was an imposingly tall figure of strange qualities. His eyes at certain angles seemed to be ablaze, and sometimes a porthole to a boundless void. Now it was drawing her gaze, daring her to look deep into them. She looked down to avoid his eyes and saw his feet coming closer with each leisurely stride.

"There's no need to panic, Charlotte. The sooner you desist your stubborn resistance, the sooner I can let you back down on solid ground," he said. Saturn ran a hand through his seemingly grungy faux hawk. The chunky gunmetal rings made his hands seem weightier and tougher. His vintage black skull screen tee peeped from under his black leather motorcycle jacket. His dark blue jeans were well-worn and torn on the knees. The chunky black boots now stood just before where Charlotte's feet would have been had they touched the ground.

Charlotte didn't stop trying, however. She struggled to free a hand at least so she could claw or punch him, whichever was more effective. Suddenly the mysterious force further restricted her movements as a constrictor boa would do to its prey. She began gasping for breath.

Saturn slipped a finger under the collar of Charlotte's jacket and began pulling it down her arm. His rough finger grazed along her bare arm until her fingertips. By then, her jacket had fallen to the ground. "Pity…I really don't want to hurt you," he mumbled under his breath. "My touch is certainly different from that of an Elf's, isn't it?"

Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise and horror. Elf? How did he know about that? Who was he? Legolas had not told her enough of Middle-earth's history and now she did not know who she was dealing with. All she could figure out was that this man was probably a Gifted.

"Oh…I see you are one of those who never read or read through that clever Tolkien's book. I'll tell you this--I personally think he over-simplified the principles of good and evil down to black and white. Really, isn't history written by victors through their views? In reality, both sides are tainted the and middle is always a blurry grey. If I had won, history would be a lot different…that's why I'm going to rewrite it."

He reached forth and placed his open hand horizontally just above Charlotte's eyes. When he slid his hand down over her nose and chin, Saturn returned his hand to his side. Charlotte's eyes were closed and all of her hung limp in mid air. The neck gave away to gravity and her head tilted to the side. Saturn--or rather Sauron--placed his arms under her back and knees just as he undid the force that made her levitate. Carrying her body, Sauron vanished into the blackness.

Slowly the darkness faded and the lights of the stars and moon returned. The rays of lights spread throughout the apartment as if searching for something or someone. Like fingers, it felt its way through almost every little corner of the rooms. When it could not find what it was looking for, the lights faded a little and stopped feeling its way. It became muted and stationary; it had returned to its inanimate state. All had returned to the time when Charlotte had fallen asleep under the gossamer of light.

But the bed was empty. Her jacket lay upon the floor.

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**A/N: Ugh…took so long to write this chapter…damn writer's block. Don't you hate it? I hate it. Well, I'll get started on the next chappie right away! 


	32. Your War, Your Pain

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22. Bolded words are Elvish.

A/N: Hehehe…sorry for long time no update. Life's a little hectic right now, and actually writing up the action sequence in this chapter was a challenge. I haven't written so much action sequence in my life! I hope it turned out okay…it may be a little sci-fi-esque, but this is fantasy, after all (cough, GANDALF, cough, SARUMAN, cough!). By the way, that was a hint that this chapter is full of the "action/adventure" genre this fic is under! Enjoy!

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**It had not been long since the departure of the Earl-Harris family that the trail of dust-cloud could be seen from far away with elven vision. It was Elladan who saw it first from his post, then alerted the rest to his findings. By the look of things, it would be one nasty scuffle of epic and unnatural proportions. 

There were almost a dozen vehicles of all sorts, all carrying its maximum capacity of passengers and extra loads. The Elves could see that they were heavily armed in various weaponry. Few were hyped up enough to stick their upper bodies out of the open windows and shake their automatic assault rifles at the air. Elven ears picked up the sound of their hyena-like laughing and screaming. It seemed that the etiquettes of warfare for these fools had been reduced down to the behaviors of filthy Orcs and Goblins. There was no doubt in the feeling of déjà vu.

"**To each Gifted their own power**," said Legolas. "**Do not assume they are crude replicas of each other like Orcs were. These are reincarnated Men; they are no mindless swine nor fools**."

"**Duly noted. What are we to do with them? Do you suggest shoot to kill?**" Elrohir asked.

"**Unfortunately, yes. Those who join their secret brethren are zealous enough to have forgotten and ignore morals. They can never be reformed back to the ways of the world--for I have tried unsuccessfully for thousands of years. The Gifted have necromancers, therefore we must sever the spinal cords of those we kill so they may never be revived.**"

Haldir sighed at such need for boorish tactics, but there was no other way. If Legolas Thranduilion ordered it so, it would be done so--in all of his life Legolas had spoken no lie and would always refrain from excess carnage. "**Then it is settled. It is either them…or us.**"

With that simple rule set, the four Elves watched the herd of vehicles approach the quiet side of the town. They stood far from the gates of the Earl-Harris mansion in their gear and weaponry.

Soon the cars came to a screeching halt about a hundred yards from the Elves. Everyone dismounted and brought out their weapons. Dressed in whatever clothes they preferred, the Gifted seemed nothing like warriors. To any eyes, they were a band of brigands and lunatics. But to the trained eyes, they were well-trained fighters equipped with prototype assault weapons not yet made public to the world. Only known to the creators, the patron, and a few wealthy "collectors," the weapons were very capable of creating utter ruins of devastating proportions in a short amount of time.

The Elves were armed with only their elven weapons and a few guns they borrowed from Charlotte and Andrew. Their weaponry was scanty, but blessed by the Valar they were.

It was about to begin; Gifted versus the immortal Elves.

One Gifted pointed his rifle barrel to the sky and squeezed out a three-round burst. Others followed suit and repeated his actions. They began walking across the field slowly, keeping their eyes out for anyone in or around the mansion. They had been told of a powerful force protecting this place, if anyone had stayed behind instead of fleeing. Having extraordinary powers themselves, the Gifted were wary of equally abnormal opposition waiting for them with a home field advantage.

The one who had started the almost ceremonial firing opened his mouth to speak. "Come out and surrender now! I don't want to waste precious technology on you! Surrender and I promise you won't be hurt!" Then he turned to his fellow Gifted and uttered under his breath, "not hurt, but definitely dead," with a crude laugh.

The Elves heard this, but they were undeterred. They were not about to believe the words of beings who wished to create a world of chaos and injustice. If anything, they were more determined to defeat the Gifted once and for all.

Legolas strung an arrow. In the blink of an eye, he lifted his bow, pulled back the string, and aimed at a Gifted who he sensed to be a necromancer. With the silent mouthing of Elbereth's name, he released the string with perfect form as it always has been since he first picked up a bow. The green-feathered arrow flew true to his aim and pierced through the throat and the arrowhead lodged itself between two vertebrae and severed the spinal cord. The body fell limp to the ground.

Surprised and panicking, the Gifted began moving fast both forward and to trees for shelter. The Elves did not make any move again, even when the Gifted were all well-hidden behind trees and such. There was no need to waste bullets and arrows at this range. The arrow was just a warning; this would give them time to think about who they were up against and what consequences would await them should they attempt to engage their enemies in battle. For the well-trained Elves, they were capable of fighting effectively at close range as well as long range. Men would attempt to eliminate as much enemy from distance as luck would allow in order to keep evil far away from home. In the end, what mattered was who had more to lose and how far they would go to protect whatever they had left.

A Gifted aimed his rifle and shot at random places that may have been a hiding place. The bullets tore up the shiny green leaves of the bushes and trees, destroying innocent nature with his careless disregard. Birds flew out of the tree in panic, out of the nature's brown and green haven and into the open sky. The Elves sensed their fear and panic; the tranquility of the town had been utterly disturbed.

The seeming leader raised his arm to hold the fire. All became quiet and many pairs of eyes peered far and ahead to find signs of life. The leader choose a random member and sent him forward to survey the site from a different view point. An agile Gifted made a swift jump up to a tree branch with ease. Another tossed up to him his weapon, then crouched down to hide. From a higher plane of vision, the Gifted tucked the rifle butt to his shoulder and leaned his head over to look through the sniper scope. Through the crosshairs he studied the land.

Out of the blue came a silent arrow, destined for the sniper's neck. Just before it made contact, the Gifted leader snatched the arrow away. Now the Elves knew what the Gifted were capable of and the Gifted knew the same of their enemies. The tall man laughed as he broke the arrow shaft with his hand. He began to chuckle.

"Whoever you are, I'm quite sure you don't want to drag this out. You're outnumbered and limited in supply. You won't last long against us," he said. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…"

A sound a lot like thunder came simultaneously, but just after the thud of bodies falling to the ground. Suddenly the couple dozen was down by four and the rest shocked out of their minds. Of all things they had been told by Saturn upon their departure, they had forgotten to never underestimate their unknown foes. They let their enemies get the best of them and now they were four Gifted closer to losing face amongst their fellow warriors.

The leader picked up his rifle again and rested the barrel in his other hand. "No more games! Spread out and kill these mother fuckers!"

Like swift predators the Gifted split into four groups -- since there were four distinct gunshots -- and spread out to maximize their efficiency. In their brazen anger, these warriors abandoned stealth for speed. The Elves could hear their footsteps loud and clear as they readied their _primitive_ weapons of olden days.

The group that was headed towards Elrohir was composed of three men and one woman. When they approached a cluster of trees, they slowed down and began a thorough search. The elder twin changed his grip of the sword as he peered from three trees away. One Gifted halted and held out a hand and placed it on the bark. He felt for something…some sort of life sign that he did not recognize. The other three surveyed visually. When the Gifted was done with one tree, he moved on to the next. Elrohir waited and kept peering down. Soon they were moving closer to his tree and he knew it was time to pounce.

Elrohir slit the throat of the more talented Gifted as he jumped down. Swinging his sword around, he parried one's rifle barrel while kicking away another's barrel. Two gunshots went off, but only one went into the sky. One bullet was misdirected by Elrohir's kick and into the fourth Gifted. The two mortally wounded Gifted were lying down, wasting away. The other two, on the other hand, regained their balance and aimed again at the Elf, not having learned their lesson. Slicing off the alloy barrel with one swift stroke, Elrohir disarmed one of the Gifted. The man threw a punch while the other one fired his gun. Elrohir blocked the shot and it ricocheted into the blue.

Having concentrated his focus on protecting himself from the gunshot, Elrohir made himself vulnerable to the punch. He received it square on the jaw, but firmly stood his ground. Another swing of his singing blade came down vertically, but the Gifted carried out a perfect double-team move. One cleverly caught the blade with his two hands by the flat sides. Thrown off-guard by such inhuman skill, Elrohir received a powerful kick to the side. Wheeling, the Elf kicked the Gifted off of his sword. However, the second Gifted kicked the back of his knee and caused him to kneel. The other tried to kick the sword out of Elrohir's hand and catch it, but the immortal was too quick for that.

Elrohir managed to swing his sword over his head and made the Gifted behind him swerve to the side in order to avoid a direct hit. Meanwhile, he tripped the Gifted before him by sticking out his foot. He used that crucial moment to jump back onto his feet and swing his sword around into a full circle. When Elrohir completed the motion, he immediately ran towards Elladan. The two Gifted fell down soon after, bleeding from their necks.

Elladan had a much more difficult problem at hand. He was faced with a group of nine, all whom began to shoot their automatic assault rifles as they ran. The younger twin ran in a zigzag pattern, going around in an arc. From the corner of his eyes he saw his identical brother coming to his aid.

Like a hunter, Elrohir threw his elven sword to the Gifted lagging behind all others. When the rest were somewhat distracted by their reduction in numbers, Elladan used that momentary interruption of the rapid fire to throw a dagger. Just like Elrohir's sword, the dagger went straight to its target and completed its mission. Just as he threw the weapon, Elladan also took out his elven sword and began his approach for close-quarter combat. The force of seven was now divided between the two twins, although it was more heavily concentrated on Elladan, the one with the pistol holstered to his belt--thus the greater and more immediate threat.

Faster than what they had previously encountered, the Elves proved to be a more formidable opponent than the Gifted originally estimated. Elladan leaped forward as if aided by some invisible force, landing with a vertical stroke that left a hideous gash on a Gifted's cranium. Elrohir had by then plucked his sword from the corpse and swung his sword in fluid arcs, confusing his enemy as he closed in for the kill. The befuddled fool fired his rifle, but managed to clip the corner of the Elf's jacket. Just as Elrohir made ready to send the minion of Sauron to hell, the Gifted squeezed his eyes shut and disappeared. The Elf stopped in confusion. He glanced around, then found his enemy standing several dozens of yards away from him.

"**What is going on?**" Elrohir wondered.

The Gifted had used his powers to transport himself, but was limited to a short range distance. When Elrohir figured that much, the bastard had started to shoot.

Elladan had a much bigger problem in his hands. Four Gifted were running towards him, occasionally shooting to confine his running directions. One had managed to levitate herself just above the ground now, ready to fly forward and attack from above. Another began uttering a wind-cut spell while others pulled away their triggers. The Elf was in a whole lot of trouble.

Elladan managed to dodge most of the bullets, although some either whizzed by or grazed his clothes. Suddenly he realized that the spell the Gifted had whispered was coming into effect, he stopped to brace himself. The last of the bullets grazed his cheek and left a superficial wound. That was not the worst. A strong gust of wind shot forth and whipped all about him like bull whips, tattering the edges of his garments and causing little cuts all over his flesh.

When Elladan sensed that the spell would soon fade away, he opened his eyes and looked up. Lo and behold, the Gifted woman had just came to a halt in midair and started to move the barrel tip to the Elf's head. The immortal snapped out his pistol like lightening and shot the Gifted right on the torso. He jumped back to avoid being crushed underneath the falling corpse, then aimed his pistol at his would-be fourth victim. A fifth member utilized telekinesis to pull the gun away from the Elf's hand, but Elladan leaped forward and grabbed it again, pulling the trigger instantly and killing the intended fourth victim as planned.

Elrohir flourished his sword, there by deflecting most of the fatal bullets. One clipped a bit of his hair, but it did not deter him. The Gifted began to close his eyes, but the Elf was quicker and threw a dagger into his throat. But there was a third aiming at Elrohir through his crosshairs.

Elladan was now about to shoot the telekinetic Gifted, but his opponent was smarter this time and conjured enough energy to actually crush the pistol barrel before another bullet could be fired. Throwing away the weapon now rendered useless, the Elf now sought to utilize the Gifted's exhaustion to finish him off. However, the sixth Gifted pulled the trigger. Before Elladan could unsheathe his sword, an elven dagger had met the bullet halfway through its path and ricocheted it towards a different direction. Elladan looked to his left and bowed his head in a rush to thank his fellow comrade and former March Warden. Haldir just smiled and went about his own business with his task.

While the twins were working with the three enemies, Haldir had already laid waste to three Gifted. But his problem was that a necromancer kept reviving them all while being shielded by the force of a fifth Gifted. With this little déjà vu, Haldir had his hands full.

Elladan pulled out his sword and quickly sprinted over to the dead corpse that his dagger was embedded in. He quickly plucked it out and threw it towards the telekinetic Gifted. The mortal had been caught off guard with the cumbersome prototype rifle, but deflected the bullet just in time to avoid injury. However, that lack of focus inadvertently directed the dagger to the sixth Gifted, resulting in a large gash to his elbow that left the ligaments useless. Now he was unable to support the barrel of the somewhat heavy rifle. He struggled to hold up the weapon with the sole power of his right arm, but it proved too unstable to aim decently. Toiling, the Gifted pulled the trigger, but the gun began to slip from his hand and the barrel began moving towards a different direction.

Elrohir's third target pulled the trigger. The bullet was forced to spin by the spiraling grooves, becoming more accurate as it neared the end of the barrel. There was only the soft noise of the bullet after it went through the silencer, although it was loud enough for the Elf to hear. He leaped to his side to dodge the bullet, still keeping his eyes on the Gifted. But before he could do anything about it, some stray bullets pierced his opponent and left some nasty exit wounds. Elrohir glanced over to Elladan and the injured Gifted.

"Thanks!" He shouted. Trusting his "equal-in-everything" to eliminate what Elladan took on as his share, the elder twin ran off to aid Haldir with the necromancy spectacle.

Elladan quickly sprinted towards the telekinetic Gifted, running with so much agility that soon the Gifted was becoming confused with Elladan's direction of movement. Summoning his powers to somehow push Elladan over or pick him up into the air, the Gifted had to drop his gun to the ground and hold out both of his hands to concentrate his power to its maximum capability.

The immortal quickly jumped into the air and managed to land with a stroke that finally felled the Gifted. Scared shitless, the injured Gifted tried again to shoot Elladan with his gun, but struggled to keep the barrel parallel to the ground. Elladan picked up the dead Gifted's assault rifle and aimed. Before the last Gifted had the chance to command his index finger, the immortal beat him to it. The body fell to the ground with a strange thud and cracking of a dislocated joint. Now the latter twin was free to aid Haldir also.

Both had picked up the weapons of their dead adversaries. The Elves began shooting their weapons on automatic setting instead of the standard three-round bursts. It was not an overkill, however, since the force field of the Gifted immobilized all bullets like spider webs do to bugs. The alive-again, dead-again Gifted appeared ghastly from the half-healed wounds, literally and visually the living dead from horror movies. The sheer force of the weapon allowed more rounds to be fired per minute than the necromancer could utter healing spells.

As gruesome as it was, Haldir soldiered on to defeat his enemies. He pulled out his own pistol and readied his sword. While the twins were laying down heavy fire, the former March Warden ran forward and through the confusion that swept through the Gifted. Fresh corpses fell to the ground, then there was a flash of strong light and a thunderous sound that dragged on.

Haldir was pressing down his blade to the force field, trying to break through. The Gifted that controlled the shield transferred more energy to their front so that it would hold up better against the immortal.

Then the thunderous clap ceased.

Elrohir plucked his sword from the nape of the force-wielding Gifted. When the Gifted had diverted most of the energy towards the front, he had left his backside exposed. Elrohir had then taken his golden opportunity.

The necromancer began muttering the incantation. Elladan's perfectly aimed bullet to the neck halted the process that now seemed like some defective reality that played over and over before them. The ragged corpses remained on the ground, fallen flat on their faces or backs. However, the sound of battle ensued from the direction of their dear companion and comrade.

Thee Elves, still holding onto the large rifles and swords spent one moment to watch their fellow immortal soldier on with the Gifted who apparently ganged up on him. Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen was moving with such speed and grace as was inherent within his blood and as acquired from millennia of fighting. In spite of this, the Elf had made no great progress during this whole time. He had at least a dozen or so Gifted firing their rifle at him and all of his energy and time was being spent on dodging spells and deflecting bullets.

While he was doing all of this, Legolas was keeping his eye on the leader of this outfit of brigands. He had just gotten off the phone, as if the fighting and the killing was just a movie and he was standing in front of a silver screen. There was a smirk, which then grew into an outright impish grin. It made him curious and disrupted his rhythm of movement.

There was a red glint as droplets of crimson blood surged from a bullet wound.

A bullet had found its way to Legolas and caused a slight de-fleshing of his upper arm. The three Elves snapped to and sprinted to aid their friend in need.

Legolas put a hand to his wound and then brought it up to his face. Blood. He was bleeding, but he could not feel it trickling down his shocked flesh. Suddenly he remembered the pools of blood that always haunted his dreams. The faces once drowned under the pool surfaced. He did not know what to feel. Of all of the emotions he felt after such nightmares were now dormant.

During that moment of weakness, the Elves took over Legolas's defensive and began to turning into an offensive counter. They obliterated many with such accuracy and efficiency that some Gifted began to be deterred in the vast difference in skills. However, when the supposed leader took up his prototype rifle and began shooting with ease and grin, they regained their confidence somewhat. They continued their efforts with renewed vigor.

The battle raged on for minutes on end, the fair scenery littered with shell casings and oxidized blood stains. Moreover, the place was haphazardly strewn with gruesome bodies. The death of the necromancer had saved the Elves of ridiculously lengthened battle. However, they were not a troupe of incompetent fools. Their skills were mediocre at least, and proved to be more than a piece of cake when working as a team. Legolas did not anticipate such coordination and unity from the Gifted--for most only cared about their own tails. Nevertheless, the Elves went on like any other battle.

The number of Gifted dwindled to only a handful, slowly but surely. They now seemed to be returning to a state of panic and fear. How were these long-haired model-wannabes able to fight with such precision, grace, and expertise as if they were the forefathers of war and anything else to do with war? Although they were risking their lives to do so, the Gifted could not help but witness the poetic flow of move from move and kill to kill. Every execution--of the moves _and_ killing--was perfection.

However, the leader did not seem so impressed--or at least tried to make it look that way.

"Stop staring like a bunch of fucking wusses! Get a move on or I'll kill you myself!" He growled. He dropped the empty clip and snapped in a fresh one. "MOVE!"

They began to get back into their war mentality, but it was too late. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, the handful diminished to a mere one--the leader of the unit.

Chuckling, the leader aimed his gun. "Go ahead! Attack me all at once like cowards! I'll still kill you all!"  
The Elves exchanged glances. There were no smirks of amusement or cruelty. All that occupied their fair elven faces were serenity and determination. Legolas d spoke with a tone so austere that the mere reverberation of his vocal cords produced a stinging chill within the Gifted.

"We aren't anything like you."

Still going with the tactic of intimidation and psychological mind games, the Gifted shook off the chill and tried his best to return the icy glare. "You're trying to ease my mind with words! I know the rest of you will attack when I have my guard down!"  
Haldir gave life to another bone-chilling voice. "If you are so afraid, just go back to your headquarter."

"We won't kill you while you're retreating," Elladan continued.

"Because we're not treacherous like you," Elrohir finished.

The succession of such different yet similarly startling voices seemed to be intimidating the Gifted. He seemed to be pondering his choices: fight and die here now, or go back and be killed by Saturn?

Legolas slowly raised his head and the starry eyes of his connected with the Gifted's blank eyes. His lips parted, then came the words, "what's it going to be?"

"It doesn't matter! You're all going to die and we'll rule the world! It's all destiny!" He shouted.

Legolas uttered softly, but clearly, "believe what you want." He unsheathed the sword the Elves brought him from Valinor. It gleamed in the high noon sun.

The three other Elves emptied their last magazine clips into the ground and jabbed their swords into the ground. Now there was no way the Elves could quickly attack the last Gifted without making a big movement. They had given up their opportunities to fight as a group; they were leaving it all up to Legolas.

The Gifted chuckled, then dropped his weapon close to his feet. He cracked the knuckles of his fingers and then his neck. "I'll teach you a lesson, you insolent fool!" He shouted. With that, he darted forward at full speed, then disappeared from sight.

Reappearing from behind Legolas, he threw a punch in what he thought would be the knock-out punch. However, the Elf was too quick and dodged with a slight shifting of weight from one leg to another. The immortal swung his blade around his side to attack the Gifted behind him. Not going down without a fight, the mortal dodged it and then disappeared once more. Several seconds passed by and he reappeared several yards away with his hands gathered for attacking. He swung his arms about in some sort of coherent manner -- like a martial art move -- while creating a random whirlwind that sent out darts of flesh-cutting wind.

Legolas broke through each with a swing of his sword. When it seemed that the Gifted was going to try another spell, he made his move.

With a short dash and a high jump, Legolas was now falling just above the Gifted with his sword raised high. Landing right foot first upon the Gifted's chest, Legolas kicked him to the ground and kept him there with his combat boot-clad foot. With that momentum came the edge of the sword. Resting on the bare throat of the all too confident Gifted, the tip of the sword nudged the bulging jugular vein. A drop of blood from Legolas's upper arm trickled all the way down his arm and sword. It splashed upon the Gifted's cheek. "We gave you a chance to run. You should've taken it."

Amazingly enough, the Gifted laughed it up. "You're wasting time here, trying to intimidate me! I've got nothing to be afraid of or to lose!"

"Except your life," Legolas spat.

A drop of blood fell again.

"The same could be said of your friend!"

A slight knot of the brows indicated Legolas's confusion. The Gifted took it as a sign of fear. Another drop came plunged down and broke into smaller drops upon contact.

"What…did I insult your relationship? What is she? Recon mole? Human bait? Maybe a life partner? No, I've got a better one -- your own personal bitch!"

Legolas pressed hard down on the Gifted's chest, restricting his air passage. The Gifted attempted to push the foot off with his hands, but failed at each attempt. It was not heavy, but too fierce. He began to gasp for breath like a drowning rat. Another drop of blood fell on his face and it added to the calamity that plagued the Gifted. It was like a Chinese water torture, but with blood that felt so strange to the human flesh.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Asked Legolas with a somewhat shaky voice. A wave of guilt swept over him and pushed him under the current. There was a voice in the back of his head whispering, "I told you so…don't involve mortals…I told you so…it's not their battle…"

Still attempting escape from the crushing foot, the Gifted gasped, "your bitch…she's gonna die if I don't come back…!"

Sheathing his sword, Legolas bent forward and grabbed a handful of the Gifted's hair and pulled the head close to his own face. "I'm not going to kill you…yet."

It required no words or look to get the three Elves following the lead of Legolas towards the parked cars. Unkindly and ungentlemanly, Prince Legolas dragged the panting Gifted along by the handful of hair. No amount of kicking and screaming could make that hand release.

…I told you so…don't involve mortals…I told you so…it's not their battle…I told you so…they'll only get hurt…I told you so…one way or another…you're setting yourself up for a fall…

…It's your war…your pain…

**

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**A/N: Too much action in one chapter? Was it awkward? I've wrote this in so many sittings that I hope its coherent. I'm not exactly the best action choreographer…although I know someone who is. I guess some things just don't rub off on you if you stay long enough around it. Leave me a line or two in the review and let me know how this chapter turned out! Not too many chapters left before this fic is concluded! Woohoo! 


	33. Retaliation

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from J.R.R. Tolkien's works. I'd be happy to own them if they would be given to me free of charge...only possible in my dreams, but by Eru I have my right to dream whatever my subconscious would throw at me!

Warning: You should know by now; if you don't, refer to Ch. 1-22. Bolded words are Elvish.

A/N: I'm back and I have a new chapter with me! I hope you all had an excellent holiday season and ate more than plenty! Although I still have not finished writing this fic, I can finally say that this is the second-to-last chapter! I don't know if the last one will be long or short, but it will be the last. So, welcome to the second from last chapter of The Bluest Eyes!

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A cluster of dust cloud whirled into existence along the dirt road. As it floated on above, it slowed its pace and leisurely ascended into the sky just to fade away. 

Through the high-powered binoculars, one could see two tiny specks of black heading off the dust clouds. It was the source that created the choking yellow menace, racing towards the edifice that the observer stood upon. Panic caused a stir amongst the sentry. One left his post with haste, but not sure why he was running so.

Slamming the door wide open, the sentinel panted out of tension rather than exhaustion. Forgetting the formal decorum -- not so much disregarding it -- the Gifted ran up to the table in the center of the room and spat out the news as if it was poisonous to keep it inside him. "Two cars are driving up here full speed!"

"What?" asked another Gifted. He was of high position, but not as focal as Saturn or Frank. He was the left-hand man named Günther.

"I think they're part of the force Saturn sent out this morning," he spat out impatiently.

"But didn't he send out eight cars? What happened to the rest?"

"I don't know."

Grunting out of frustration, Günther stormed out of the room and the sentinel followed right behind him. They ran up the stairs and to the flat roof where few other Gifted were standing guard.

"Update!" Günther demanded.

"They're still approaching, but they've slowed down just a few miles per hour. They should be more visible within the next few seconds."

They all grew silent as they looked out towards the nothingness and the dirt road running through it. The cloud was still billowing upwards like some sort of creature ballooning oneself to ward off predators.

Suddenly the dark specks disappeared into the cloud as it abruptly put on the breaks. The sentry began murmuring out of apprehension and curiosity, trying to look beyond the hazy curtain of dust. Just when the external sentry were about to move forward to check it out, the cars shot forth from the yellow mass. The external sentry began shooting at will towards the cars, knowing it was meant to crash into the abandoned warehouse. When it came close enough, they realized there was no one inside. Then the door to one of the cars opened and a body leaped out.

Before anyone could shoot the engine, the tires, or the gas tank, the cars crashed into the walls and lit on fire like a piece of dry and withered leaf. Few of the sentry who had ducked got up and joined their fellow guards in approaching the body to see who it was. They saw it face down with a hand up to the neck. One sentinel kicked it over and saw that it was the leader of the Gifted sortie with his throat cut open and bleeding through and through. They panicked and began glancing around bewilderedly.

Günther needed no words to tell him what had occurred. His extraordinary vision told him all and he had a guess as to what exactly was behind this incident. He wasn't a key player for nothing.

"Get everyone geared up. This'll be more difficult than anything we've encountered before," he said.

The word soon got around and now everyone had some sort of weapon to fight with, be it gun or knife or whatnot. They were all alert and ready, but not completely aware as to what was going on and what sort of force they were soon to face. It was still a threat to their headquarters, nonetheless, and they would fight to maintain their fortress.

The leader of the sortie was long dead now. The sentry did not bother with retrieving his body. They external sentry ventured forth towards the grove of trees, hoping to find what they thought they were looking for. Quietly and slowly they went, rifles up and their eyes parallel to the crosshairs. The rifle butt was up firmly against the shoulder with their lesser hand supporting the barrel. Their dominant hand was up against the trigger and a few did not realize their fingers were trembling. Little did they know that their fears were entirely logical. They did not know who they were about to face, but they were afraid. The time of Ungifted rivaling the Gifted in strength and wisdom was long gone. Those were the days of old when guns were yet to be invented and the arts of ancient civilizations revived. No one knew about the existence of the Gifted and their base in this middle-of-nowhere region. How the hell did they know?

There was a sudden spray of bullets and so began the felling of human bodies. In a matter of seconds, the poor saps were lying dead on the earth, saturating it with their blood. The brown earth became darker, almost black, and the air now stank of blood.

"**They know where we are now. Just sweep through the building and get rid of all of them…we can't take prisoners**," Legolas stated. It wasn't a matter of 'won't' when it came to prisoners. They absolutely had no means of managing prisoners. They just 'couldn't'.

Swift like fleeting shadows, the Elves began purging the place. The Gifted were a very real threat to the balance of good and evil that existed in this world. Although they are living beings like any other humans, they had abandoned their moral and common sensibilities to pursue the life goal of world domination and superiority through evil means. The Elves and the Valar should not meddle in the affair of the mortals, but the Gifted had become a kind of their own. They became a medium between immortal and mortal because of the aid they received from Sauron, and thus no longer innocent. They had readily accepted him on their own free will. They _chose_ to become his foul minions.

With that choice came the inevitable consequence; they would face as their enemy the fairest and the most lethal warriors of Ilúvatar's Children.

Almost reminiscent of the Ghosts of Men of the Mountain sweeping through Minas Tirith, the Elves efficiently cleansed the place of the Gifted. Steadily they made their way up the edifice, driving the remnants to the pinnacle where they stood helpless. Should they jump? Surrender and beg for mercy? End one's own life? Stay their ground and fight? But haven't they just done that? How where they still gaining ground in the enemy's home territory? There had been confusing rumors about these intruders as well. Some said there were several dozens, which would explain the efficiency and speed with which they eliminated their targets. Others said there were less than a dozen, although most preferred to ignore the seemingly silly notion. The majority agreed on the golden and raven tresses, fair and flawless complexion, and a sort of light in their eyes that was fiery, yet sparkling. Some described them as heavenly angels and some went so far as to insultingly call them "witless supermodels." No matter the true identity, they were fierce and swift in their execution of mission and of the damned.

They could hear the screaming and gunshots grow louder with each passing moment. The remnants on the roof readied their weapons and prepared for a last fight to the death. This is how it was going to end…or was it?

With the blast of a grenade, the locked door to the rooftop shattered to molten pieces. Two marred corpses lay strewn by the doorway and several others trampled over the deceased to join the living at the other end of the building. Coughing from the smoke and debris, they stumbled their way behind the front line. While they recuperated, the others tensed their trigger fingers in anticipation.

One thought he heard the sound of footsteps. He let out a furious roar from the prototype rifle and caused orange sparks from ricocheted bullets. Others followed suit, hoping to get rid of them in one fell swoop. When they wasted a significant portion of their ammo magazine, they ceased their firing. Smoke and debris began to settle down and the stairway up to the rooftop became somewhat clear. It was empty; it was dark and shadowy. A steady breeze blew the rest away and revealed only the two dead Gifted.

"What the hell! Where the fuck are they!" One cried in desperation.

A handful began concentrating their powers on detecting living life forms in their near vicinity. All were either faint or already faded. From what they could recognize, no one was alive or alive enough to retaliate. Coming to such conclusion, one declared, "I think it's safe. They should be dead or soon will be."

Faintly grinning from satisfaction and ego, Günther--the highest ranking member present--signaled for the front line to make sure the infiltrators were dead. The second wave took their place as the front line.

Stealthily like agile felines, the Gifted vanguard approached the narrow passageway. With their barrels pointed to the common target, they surrounded the passageway. One ventured forth alone, switching on the flashlight attached to the top of the gun. A thin, but strong, ray of artificial light burst forth and illuminated the dark stairway. There were two bodies of their comrades, strewn haphazardly like abandoned confetti. There was no intruder to be found.

"They're not dead!" One yelled back to his commander.

Gasps ensued, then whispering followed.

Günther raised his arm and all voices fell to silence. He took a few steps forward in contemplation, then spoke. "It's nothing to worry about! They're probably hiding downstairs. You guys go ahead by stairs. Those who have the capability to fly, grab a rifle and take either the north and the west walls or the north and the east walls. We'll mow down the whole damn floor!"

Thunderous cheering burst from every lips and traveled down the narrow stairway with a growing echo. The four pairs of elvish ears did not need the cheering to realize what had just transpired. They had heard the entire plan as it traveled down the stairway, growing softer with every inch but still loud enough. Now their task was to dodge the grid of bullets as well as the continuation of extermination of the Gifted. Even during these last minutes of their lives, the Gifted had not thought of giving up their evil way of life. All they cared for was the prolongation of status quo by brute force. It wasn't helping anyone. It had to stop now.

As a small portion of the Gifted began to levitate into the air, the group in front of the stairway entrance prepared themselves for a plunge into the dark. They brought up their gun and turned on the flashlight attachment on their gun barrel. Bending their knees to absorb the shock and soften their footsteps, the Gifted on the rooftop slowly approached the stairway step by step. The levitating Gifted also aimed their barrel tips as they aligned themselves with the windows. The Elves were surrounded.

Haldir, Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas made an instant study of the room they were in. It was Sauron's private room, now stripped bare of few articles that they had noticed before. Most prominent item missing was the colossal painting that once occupied the whole of the wall. Aside from that momentary detour of the mind, they discovered they weren't too far from the stairs after all. If they ran at their fastest speed and perhaps dodge a few bullets towards the end, there was a possibility they would make it. But it all had to be right.

They didn't need even a single word to confirm this plan with the others. It was either this great risk or certain death.

The Elves did not waste a single second. In a flash, they began dashed across the furniture-cluttered room, weaving through and jumping over the damned obstacles that hindered their path to living another day. Suddenly everything seemed to slow down and the Elves felt as if running submerged under water. The echo of desperate running footsteps became muffled to their ears as any sound would while traveling through water.

Just as they were three-fourths of the way across the room, the Gifted were finally aligned and began firing a deadly grid of bullets. The little metal pieces glinted in the streams of sunlight seeping through the partially open curtains. The Elves could see the glinting fragments of death racing towards them. Now every fraction of a second was a test of luck or fate.

Elladan was the first to have a close encounter with the deadly bullets. As the first one whizzed by his ear, he and his companions realized just how close to death they had been during their clashes with the Gifted. This realization renewed itself over and over as the bullets flew by and they found themselves performing death-defying bullet-dodges. Haldir noticed a glint to his right and twisted his upper body to evade. Meanwhile, Legolas jumped onto a table to avoid a bullet. Elrohir tuck and rolled several feet on the floor to escape a bullet to his midsection, but on the way back on his feet he found himself face to face with a menacing projectile. In what would have been a fatal wound, he managed to reduce it down to a mere graze on the side of his forehead with a simple turn of his head. Not letting that encounter with death slow him down, the elder twin leapt onto his feet once again and made for the door.

Just when they were close to the portal out of this grid of fire, the Gifted on foot busted through the door from the other side with gun barrels ablaze. The Immortals had been slowed down several seconds by the bullet-dodging, and the Gifted had beat them to the punch. To avoid being shot, the Elves retreated back several yards and took cover. Now things were getting a little more complicated up close and personal.

The only upside the Elves could see in this newly developed situation was the fact that the levitating Gifted from the stair-side of the room would have to convert their frenzied mow-down endless fire to a more controlled cover fire.

But the downside seemed worse. By now all of the windows were obliterated and the walls were full of holes through which the levitating Gifted could look through. Also, the Elves now had to be concerned with possibilities of being shot in the back by a lurking Gifted hiding behind furniture and shadows. It was now or never. They had to make a move or die here and now.

"**Forget stealth! Just make it to the door!**" Legolas cried out loud.

The Elves grabbed their guns and sprang up from their hiding places. They let out a series of three-shot bursts instead of automatic fire in an attempt to conserve ammunition. A handful of Gifted fell to the ground with blood spouting from their exit wounds. The Elves were retaliating and pushing their way to the door.

In no time the Immortals were within the distance of one leap with the closest Gifted. Haldir dove forth and pummeled the Gifted's face with the rifle butt. He spun the rifle around a hundred and eighty degrees to shoot the next one in front of him. With the simple pull of a trigger, a life was taken. What years of biological progress did to create one human being was destroyed in a single moment.

Elladan and Elrohir had created a bloodbath themselves, gunning down several Gifted just so they could make it to the door. It was either the Gifted…or themselves. Elrohir and Elladan, Firstborns and proud warriors, were not about to go down like this. All of the rage and hatred they felt after seeing their dear mother mauled by the Orcs…it all resurfaced and fueled their strength and determination to survive and annihilate the evil that stood before them. The Immortals would not let them survive this day.

Elrohir laid down a cover fire while Elladan dashed forth brandishing his elven sword and pistol. Like stalks of golden wheat cut down for autumn harvests, the tall figures of the Gifted fell to the ground and painted the floor red with their blood. However, this small team effort was no match for the larger group. The airborne mortals were now firing at irregular intervals, taking time off at one point or another to drop their empty ammo magazines and reload fresh ones. Slowly things were looking up for the Elves.

Now came the last stretch towards the door. The continuous dodging and running and shooting was beginning to look like a swirl of colors, but now it was about to end. If they could hold out just a little longer, the path down the stairway would be much more simpler.

Haldir spun around to dodge a bullet by a hair, then stuck out his elbow to smack a Gifted right on the nose. He followed it up with the rifle in his other hand just in time to shoot his next target. Elladan was following behind, his sword flashing in the sunlight and gleaming with red. Elrohir was covering his back with the rifle, but emptied the last clip. He bent down as he was running to pluck a prototype rifle from a cold Gifted's hand. He had to yank it quite forcefully to pull it out of the cold hand's grasp, but managed to spend very little time doing so. It was a perfect synchronization, seeing as how he began to fire when Legolas ran out of ammo. It gave Legolas the time and protection to bend over and pick up a prototype rifle as well.

With one giant leap and a near-tumble landing into the stairway, the Elves had beat the Gifted to the punch and was ahead of them all. Darting down the stairs as if skiing down a snowy slope, the Elves regulated their ammo depletion so that they would not run out halfway down the stairs.

The levitating Gifted now split up into two groups, one flying down to the ground-floor exit where the stairs ended and the other entering the stairway to chase after the intruders. The Gifted on foot were following behind them, but somewhat lagging behind.

Just as the Elves reached the ground floor, they entered a corridor leading to the garage. Legolas hopped into the driver's seat and hotwired the classic Hummer. The other three jumped in and began shooting at the Gifted following them from behind. All of the gunfire attracted the attention of the Gifted outside, drawing them to the garage door. As soon as they began to fire and pierced holes on the metal door, Legolas pressed down hard on the pedal. The oversized and powerful vehicle shot forth and crashed through the door, hitting and running over the living obstacles. Those who narrowly escaped the automobile of doom aimed for the driver's seat, hoping to kill the one behind the wheel. Legolas ducked for his own safety, but the loss of sight caused him to swerve a little, inadvertently managing to hit one last Gifted before Haldir brought out a farewell gift for their enemies.

On their way down, he had picked up a loaded RPG launcher by chance from a corpse lying on the side. Now he aimed the crosshair to a gas pipeline exposed in the interior of the garage. With the garage doors busted open and shot to shreds, it gave the Elf a clear line of sight. He adjusted himself to create suspension, then pulled the trigger.

With a short whoosh and a thin trail of smoke, the RPG flew straight at its target. Its impact and explosion caused a tear in the pipeline and lit the gas on fire. The flame traveled all through out the vast pipe system as well as to the main line beneath the ground floor. It only took a few seconds for it to blast, fracturing the structural foundation and frame. Soon yielding to gravity and then crumbling to bits, those trapped inside the building and those on top of the roof were either crushed to death or blasted to hell. The remnants of the flying Gifted were eliminated by the sharp shooting twin Elves.

Eluding fatal shots to the engine or gas tank -- and even the tires -- the Elves managed to drive away with only shattered windows, bullet holes, and bullet dents to non-fatal areas. Legolas drove onto the highway and stepped on the gasoline. However, when they were approaching a small town, they went off-road to wait for the nightfall. In the cover of darkness, they would abandon their conspicuous vehicle and make it for the town on foot.

* * *

During the hour before nightfall, the immortal Elves sat still in the car and pondered their next move. Their thorough sweep up the building did not turn up Saturn anywhere and Charlotte was also nowhere to be found. Even if it was too late to save her, there was still the matter of Don's rampant expansion of power and the Maia-possessed body that still needed to be purged. Without their supernatural minions, the villainous pair was doomed. However, the two possessed enough power themselves that they could stir enough trouble and overturn the tide of time and fate. 

As soon as the sun began to set, the Elves headed for the town on foot. Their inner light seemed to have dimmed; it allowed a subtle transition to merging with the blue-black world. They faced no complication in entering the quiescent town.

They had to make it to Don's secluded faux-château mansion without being conspicuous. They didn't want to be caught and pulled over for driving a stolen vehicle or having bullet holes all over the car. Avoiding cars that the owners would notice missing right away, they chose a plain sedan that was parked well out of sight and hadn't been used recently nor would be used soon. The Elves inconspicuously drove out of the sleeping neighborhood and out of town. Before long, they were back on the road to face the evil that had survived thousands upon thousands of years.

This was the battle to end the Endless Battle, and they--the immortal Elves and the immortal spirit of the Enemy--were the last vestiges of the era long bygone. The outcome would decide which aspect of the past--the fair and prosperous Ages of the world of free peoples of Middle-earth, or the dark and hopeless times of the Enemy's coming--would be purged forever from history and which would live on in history and eternity. With that consequence would come the fate of the fairest and the foulest still surviving in the land of Earth. Will the Elves finally rid the world of the haunting Shadow and disappear into the last haven of those forgotten forever? Or will the Enemy prevail and perpetually blacken the world with a touch of his infectious fingers, stifling the world until everything in it dies and only he is left?

That…only Ilúvatar knew.

* * *

A/N: Sorry I couldn't update earlier, but I was delayed several extra days for a ridiculous reason. I have a question for you guys and girls…do any of you remember exactly when chat/scrip format fanfics were prohibited? I would love an answer. Thanks! 

My New Year Resolution: As soon as this fic is completed, I will not start posting new fics until it has been completely written to the very end. I believe that this way, I can post chapters more frequently and consistently. I guess that means you won't see me writing something as long as "The Bluest Eyes" for a while, but expect some one-shots and perhaps a few "mini-series." So, without further ado, I'm off to begin the last chapter…or at least attempt it: ) Drop a line or two if you please!


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